The Glitter & The Gold
by Eire Rose
Summary: Nick finds himself questioning his pursuit of love after Heath gets engaged. He meets someone who could be the one, but issues from their past could stand in the way.
1. Chapter 1

_**This story came to me as I was watching "When Calls the Heart" on the Hallmark channel. The mini-series is from the book of the same name by Janette Oke, about a school teacher, Elizabeth Thatcher, in a small town. Her character inspired my plot bunny, but with several twists along the way, because of the Barkley's. I hope you all enjoy the story!**_

_**Disclaimer; I do not own the characters and the story is my own creation.**_

_**Chapter One**_

_San Francisco, June 1878_

Priscilla Converse took another look at herself in the mirror in her dorm room at the San Francisco Teaching College, before she answered Dean Locke's summons. Her sensible cream colored polished cotton blouse, with a gold framed cameo pin at her neck offset her tan and brown tweed skirt. The outfit was appropriate both for the climate of the city – spring might have come everywhere else, but the great port city was always the last to get the sun's warmth – and for her position as a soon to be graduated teacher.

She was indifferent to the weather though, as she regarded herself in the mirror, being displeased with what she saw there. Priscilla knew exactly what the standard for beauty was, and she met none of the criteria. A great beauty had dazzling blonde hair and blue eyes, or raven black hair with either said blue eyes, or flashing dark eyes. That thought brought up the image of someone that she really preferred not to think about.

Then of course there was the height requirement; a great beauty had to be tall and stately or petite and fairy like. Everyone knew the line from Shakespeare's great drama _As You Like It_; 'Rosalind stands as tall as my heart'. Priscilla, along with every other female, understood that to mean five foot or less. She herself at five foot, five was too tall to be considered dainty, but not tall enough to be stately.

Her hair too was a disappointment, even though her family had always told her it was the color of honey. Dark blonde sounded better than light brown, even though it was the same color. As she tucked in a hair pin she did like how it was thick, wavy, and shiny, making it easy to work with. Her skin was creamy, porcelain smooth, with cheeks that her grandfather had always said were like roses. Priscilla thought her full, pink lips kissable, not that any man had shown any interest so far. Her light blue eyes were the color of a summer sky, and very large in a perfect, oval face with good features.

No, she would never be a great beauty, or a dazzling fairy like girl, Priscilla told herself with a shake of her head. Her roommate, a fairy like girl with red hair and green eyes, was watching her with amusement. Phoebe Miller had started the college the same time as Priscilla, and they had become fast friends.

"You look fine Priscilla, so just relax. Dean Locke just wants to tell you that you have the job at St. Margaret's." Phoebe reassured her, with conviction. "It will be so exciting for you to go back to Los Angles and teach at the school that your grandmother started. And I know you will be glad to be closer to her." Priscilla's grandmother had retired to a small cottage not far from the Episcopal Church. The church, the first and only one in the city, had been founded by Priscilla's grandfather.

"I hope I have the job." Priscilla sighed, thinking about the three rounds of interviews she had done with the board of trustees there. It had been great to be back in Los Angles, where the sun shone with warmth that infused even the people there. San Francisco had been a shock to her, with its rain, fog, and dismal grey skies. If she was in Los Angles she would be able to keep an eye on her grandmother, who was frailer than she wanted to let on.

"Why wouldn't they hire you, Priscilla? You are at the top of your class, and having attended the school should be a bonus." Phoebe's green eyes were flashing, as she clapped her hands together.

"Well wish me luck; I'd better be to the Dean's office on time." Priscilla excused herself, and leaving the room went down the stairs, and walked across the hall to Dean Locke's office. He was an older man, with grey hair and a neatly trimmed beard, and he greeted her kindly.

"Miss Converse, I have two different job opportunities for you to consider." He began in a grave voice. It was the tone of the voice that made Priscilla take a closer look, and she noticed how somber his brown eyes seemed. She felt her heart drop to her feet, as she sensed she wasn't going to like what he was going to say.

"What do you mean by two opportunities? I only interviewed for the position at St. Margaret's." She tried to keep a calm tone, even as she clasped her hands together.

"The trustees at St. Margaret's have decided that they want someone older, and with more experience, Miss Converse." Dean Locke went on to state that while she was well thought of at the school, and he was sure that they would be willing to hire her at some future date, but for now she wasn't experienced enough. Her family connections notwithstanding, Priscilla realized that she wasn't going to get her wish to go back to Los Angles.

"What are these two opportunities? The ones that don't care that I am not experienced." She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice, because she needed the job. It galled her though that all the student teaching she'd done, while taking education classes didn't seem to count for anything.

"I knew that you would be sensible, Miss Converse." The Dean visibility relaxed, glad that she had taken the bad news so well. "So many young women get upset at the least little thing, so I'm pleased that you are ready to move forward." Priscilla wished she didn't need a job so badly, and that she could afford to get upset.

Unfortunately, she had only a small amount of money that her father had left her, and she needed to be as careful as possible with it. Her grandparents had helped her with the tuition for college, but it had only gone so far. The thought of the money from her father made her think of her older sister, and what she'd done with her share, received when she'd turned eighteen.

It had been different for her sister though, because she was a beauty who knew exactly how to charm a man. Priscilla thought it unfair that society would view her sister, well married, as the better person; if they only knew the truth! She pushed that though to the back of her mind, as she tried to focus on what the Dean was saying.

"You would need to interview for both positions. One is located in the Washington Territory, while the other one is closer to home, in Stockton." The man presented the choices as if he was offering her a tasty dessert, but Priscilla didn't see it that way. The Washington Territory was weeks away, via a sea voyage; if she took that one it would be ages before she could see her grandmother. Stockton though, located in the San Joaquin Valley, held a different set of problems.

The Dean went on to explain that the superintendent for the school in Seattle, the main city in the Washington Territory, would be in town next week. That would save her the travel time, but would not give her the chance to see where she would be teaching. The Stockton position had been vacated without warning last month, when the previous teacher had left suddenly.

"Personally I think you would be a good fit for the Stockton position, Miss Converse. Rufus Morton, who is head of the school board, is very concerned that the teacher be a woman of faith. Mr. Morton is a deeply religious man, who serves on the advisory board for the church in Stockton." The Dean went on to talk more about Rufus Morton and his position in the community. Priscilla still processing the idea of Stockton was puzzled by the name of Morton – that was not the name she associated the city with.

"Miss Converse, several other teachers have interviewed for the position, but none have been found satisfactory. It was only yesterday, when I found out about St. Margaret's decision, that I proposed your name to the school board in Stockton." The older man was almost apologetic as he explained how things had come about.

"School Board? Who besides Mr. Morton is a member?" She tried to keep her voice calm, hoping that she wouldn't hear the name she was concerned about. Unfortunately, the Dean's words dashed that hope.

"Besides Mr. Morton, there is the Reverend Josiah Peterson, Mrs. Victoria Barkley, and another member of the family; it just says Mr. Barkley." The man frowned as he looked at the piece of paper he was holding, but Priscilla didn't notice. She was too busy trying not to look startled at the mention of the names of the other members. There was no way either of those Mr. Barkleys could be on the school board, she pondered, thinking they would be too young to be interested in children's education. Why, it had only been three years since; the Dean's voice broke her runaway train of thought.

"They would like to interview you tomorrow, in Stockton. I have been authorized to advance train fare for the day; lunch will be provided for you." Dean Locke smiled kindly, before he went on. "However, you have to be on the 9:00am express train to the valley, in order to make the interview. The next train doesn't run for almost two hours, making it a late arrival which would mean an overnight stay."

The next ten minutes were spent with the Dean telling her about Stockton, the school, and what she could be expected to encounter. Priscilla tried to pay attention to what the man was telling her, and not think about the Barkley's and Stockton. In any other circumstance she would be gratified beyond words by how Dean Locke was praising her, and her abilities, in recommending her for the position.

Finally she was able to escape his office, and make her way back to her room, where Phoebe was waiting. Her roommate had hot chocolate waiting for her, fortified with a tot of Irish whiskey, from an illegal bottle she kept in her hat box. Priscilla saw that her red-headed roommate was all set to celebrate, and she hated dashing her hopes.

"Phoebe I didn't get St. Margaret's! Instead I can go to Stockton, or the Washington Territory." Priscilla broke down, as she threw herself into her friend's arms. Phoebe, who knew the family history, regarded her with a horrified expression. She understood her friend's aversion to Stockton, and also the problem with the Washington Territory.

"Well I should have put a lot more whiskey in this hot chocolate!" Phoebe answered, getting the bottle out and pouring a generous amount into a water glass. Priscilla gulped it quickly, and held out the glass for more. Phoebe giggled at her normally restrained friend seeking solace in the bottle.

"Priscilla, maybe God has a reason for sending you to Stockton! Unfinished business?" Phoebe felt bad for her friend, and wanted to cheer her up. Priscilla's faith was strong, as Phoebe knew first hand, when she had helped her come to terms with her parents' sudden death. Phoebe had learned much from her roommate, and she was glad to be able to return the favor.

"So I have to go to Stockton, to meet with this religious Mr. Morton, and Mrs. Barkley?" Priscilla gulped her second glass of whiskey, not wanting to think of the Mr. Barkley who would also be at the meeting. Honestly she was starting to wonder if she was cursed, as she pondered her future. She couldn't go to Seattle; it would be too far from Granny, who only had her. It wasn't like her sister would do anything to help, she knew too well.

"It will be fine; they don't know who you are! And you look nothing like your sister, so I really don't see the problem." Phoebe saw that her friend needed reassurance. "As far as Mr. Morton, well your grandfather was the first Episcopal priest in Los Angles. He established a parish, and a school, which you attended and then helped out with. The man is going to swoon over you Priscilla!" She knew that her friend was a true Christian woman, and any school would be lucky to get her.

"Oh fine, so I have to be on that train tomorrow! Ugh!" Priscilla declined another glass, not wanting a headache for the train ride. Instead she reached for the small prayer book she kept by her bed, as she thought about Phoebe's comment that God wanted her to go to Stockton. Goodness knows, she thought, she had cleaned up more than her share of her sister's messes, while the woman resided in Los Angles.

To her mind, Stockton was just her worst fear, and she remembered one of the old ladies in the pueblo back in Los Angles. Tia Carmen liked to cackle that God was really a woman with a bad sense of humor. Right now, after two glasses of whiskey, Priscilla was ready to agree that the old woman was right.

_Later that night…_

Nick Barkley was at the craps table in the private gambling room of the Golden Dragon saloon, with a year's worth of wages in chips in front of him. He had come into the city yesterday, to enjoy a brief break between the chores of the spring branding, and the late summer round up. At first it had been great to come into the city, and check into a lavish suite of the Empress Hotel.

He enjoyed the status he held, as a wealthy ranching and mining heir, in the state of California. Nick could tough it out on the trail with the best of them, but at the end of the day he liked the comforts his money – earned by him- could buy. Most of the day had been spent with his tailor, replenishing his wardrobe, then with his tobacconist, to order more cigars. He had finished up with dinner at the Mining Exchange, with one of the partners in the Barkley Mining interest.

He then went off to kick up his heels, before going back to the ranch to work. He started out at the Union Bank Club, and then moved on to several other popular haunts for gentlemen looking for a good time. Nick had heard about the private room at the Golden Dragon, and as he looked at the pile of chips in front of him he knew he should be glad that he'd come.

The fact that he wasn't happy was because of the feeling that was coming over him, one that he had experienced twice before. If Nick had talked about it with anyone, he would have likened it to the experience of seeing and hearing things almost too clearly. It was as if someone had sharpened his already good vision and hearing, to almost painful levels.

Now he looked around the room and noticed how tawdry the décor, all red and gold with too many gilt dragons, really was. The glittering gold animals sparkled brightly, as if they were newly minted; Nick knew though that it was cheap gilding, the kind that would come off in your hand if you held it for too long.

Nick then looked at the men in the room, and the fancy girls there for pleasure, and saw too many flushed, red faces and blurry eyes. The smell of whiskey and tobacco assaulted his nose, even as he was drinking and smoking too, causing him to stub out his barely smoked cigar, as he pushed his almost full glass away.

Nick wasn't surprised when the next wave of too heightened feeling hit him; the loneliness he now perceived cut to his heart with sharp precision. It wasn't just a physical loneliness, but also an emotional one, as if he was separated from everyone by a pane of glass. He knew that there was no reason for him to feel that way, with the availability of female companionship he could choose from. There was always a fancy girl who would be glad to amuse him for a night, or even a week, many of them very beautiful. If more permanent company was what he wanted, there were any number of society approved young ladies who would be more than glad to be Mrs. Nicholas Barkley.

His difficulty was that he didn't want a beautiful courtesan that he'd bought her company, nor did he want a young woman who only wanted to marry him for his money and position. Nick by now was a master at recognizing the look that would come into the eyes of a girl, and her mother, when he paid attention to her. It wasn't quite dollar signs, but pretty close to it, and he hated being regarded as a meal ticket, or a prize to be won.

As the loneliness engulfed him, he perceived that this was the worst spell yet of the condition. The other two times that it had happened, he had tried to drink it away, with appalling results, including being arrested after the second episode. Nick realized that he needed to get out of the hot, over bright, over loud room before he did something stupid and dangerous. Quickly picking up his chips, he walked away from the table, and went over to cash them in.

Once outside he took several deep breaths of the damp night air, not minding the scent of the harbor, as he cleared his lungs. Nick felt his senses starting to return to normal, but the loneliness was still there, and he sighed as he walked back to his hotel. He knew when it had started, with Heath's engagement to Sarah Rose.

It wasn't that he didn't feel happiness for his brother, at finding love; no, Nick couldn't imagine anyone better for Heath than Sarah. Her mother, Penelope had taken over Jenny's dressmaking shop, having come out from St. Louis for a new start, after her husband's death. Sarah was as talented as her mother, and worked alongside her in the shop. Nick still thought it funny that Heath, who had complained about having to take Audra for a fitting, had ended up meeting Sarah because of it.

Sarah was a quiet girl, with chocolate brown hair and almost puppy dog eyes in a pretty face. Nick had enjoyed watching a very smitten Heath pursue her with a dogged determination. He had cheered his brother on, and had been as happy as Heath was when Sarah said yes to his proposal. It was only after the engagement party that Nick had found himself envious of his brother's happiness. That had been when the first episode had occurred, causing him to drink more than he'd had in a long time. As far as the second episode, well he didn't want to think about that.

His mood had not been helped by the news that Jenny was engaged, and would not be coming back to Stockton. Nick had fallen harder than he let on for the pretty redhead, and he knew that some of her appeal was that she was different as could be from the other ladies he'd fallen for before. When he heard that she was marrying an army officer, he could at least be glad that she had made peace with her father.

Walking down the almost deserted street on this June night, he reviewed all the women he had known, and wondered what the hell he'd been thinking, with each one. For some reason the image of the gold dragons in the hot, over loud room that he'd just left came to his mind. The women who paraded in his brain now, he saw, were just like those dragons. All pretty and sparkly to look at, but they were fool's gold that would flake off; real gold warmed and glowed when you held it.

It was a relief to arrive at his hotel, and turn in for bed, knowing that tomorrow he would head home. Nick always felt best when he was on his land, and it came to him that he needed to find a woman who would understand that about him. Not just that though, but someone who he could share that life with, someone who would be happy with him, through the good and the bad. The last thought he had was that he'd been going about it all wrong, but he wasn't sure what the right way was.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: Wow! Thank you for all the positive feedback, about this story. I'm glad that everyone is enjoying it.**_

_**Chapter Two**_

When Nick woke up the next morning, the first thing he was aware of was that he wasn't hung over, which is what he normally associated his visits to San Francisco with. The second thing was the memory of his dreams, about golden dragons that fell apart in his hands, after he had finally been able to touch them after a long struggle. That brought up all of his feelings from last night, but now they didn't seem so intense.

The pall of loneliness was still there, but also the small idea that maybe he could do something about his situation. Nick seemed to recall some Indian saying about _if you didn't know where you were going, how could you be lost_ – or maybe it was vice versa? Heath would be the one who could tell him, after all the man the legends. If anything, or anyone, was going to help him, it would be his own kin.

It was that thought that made him realize how much he needed to get home, to his land and his family. He rose from bed, dressing and packing quickly. His plan was to have a hearty breakfast at the hotel, and then catch the 9:00am express into the valley. That train made a straight run into the valley, only stopping at the three major cities once it had entered the area. It was important that he be on that train, because he had a meeting at 12:00pm that should be at.

In reality he would have been glad to miss it, but didn't want to have his mother upset with him. The meeting was to interview yet another grey haired schoolmarm that Rufus wouldn't like. Nick was still slightly annoyed that Jarrod had insisted that he take over his position on the school board. Jarrod had stated that he was too busy with several important cases to serve out his term. He had also added that Nick needed to get more involved in the community, to which Victoria had wholeheartedly agreed.

Not only did Nick find school teachers unnerving, but having to listen to Rufus grill the women on their biblical knowledge was a bore. The Barkley's and the Morton's had finally put aside their rivalry, after the incident with Joshua Watson. Both families realized that they had too much at stake – and too much to lose – to continue the conflict. That didn't mean though that Nick had to enjoy watching Rufus act like judge and jury with the women just looking for a job. He wondered why his mother didn't take a stronger stand, but had not gotten around to asking her.

Finishing his breakfast he checked out of the hotel, and set off for the train station, enjoying the rare sunny morning the city was experiencing. Nick hoped that the change in weather meant a change for the better in his personal life as well. His thoughts from last night were hanging heavy in his brain, and he really wanted to find a different direction for his life. Walking at a brisk pace, he made it to the station, where he strode up to the ticket window, only to be collided into by a young girl.

Priscilla was running late, and hoped that she would be able to make the train in time. She had carefully laid out her clothes the night before, so she would be set for the interview. The dark blue serge traveling suit was businesslike, and severe enough that she hoped it would make her look a little older. Unfortunately though the new serving maid, in the dining hall, had spilled coffee on it, making it unwearable.

She had looked through her wardrobe with a sinking heart, thinking that none of the frocks was really suitable for an interview. Most of her nicer clothes were gifts from her sister, who sent her outfits from the best dressmaker in Denver. These were always accompanied by a note telling her that she needed to quit teaching college, and find a man to get married. They were all rather lavish and feminine, more suitable for a society girl than a teacher. However, Priscilla didn't have a lot of extra money, so she took her sister's gifts, thinking that material things would be all she would ever get from the woman.

Finally deciding on a light blue skirt and jacket, with a matching cream colored blouse, Priscilla wished there wasn't so much lace trim on the pieces. She did like the hat that went with it, a straw affair, with lace and pink roses. They reminded her of her grandmother's garden, and how hard she had worked on the roses, in the hot, dry climate of Los Angles. The outfit was too light weight for the city, but she knew that the temperature in the valley was much more spring like.

All that changing though had made her later than she wanted to be, and it almost 9:00am as the cab let her off at the station. Priscilla rushed up to the ticket window in such a hurry that she didn't notice the man who was arriving there at the same time. She felt herself coming up against something solid and warm, and the feel of hands on her shoulders made her look up with a startled expression on her face.

The man was tall, well built, and dressed in a dark blue suit with a black hat – the style that ranchers wore - on his dark hair. Priscilla noticed what handsome features the he had, and as her eyes met his, she saw flecks of green against a soft brown. She didn't think she'd ever seen such honest eyes before; this was a man who shot straight from the heart, and you would always know where you stood with him.

She was suddenly very aware of his gloved hands on her shoulders, and how close they were standing next to each other. Priscilla caught a whiff of his scent, something slightly spicy and very masculine, and for some reason it was playing havoc with her thought processes. What wasn't helping either were the butterflies in her stomach, as she felt him almost holding her. It was more intimate than anything she had ever experienced before, but on a deep level it felt so right, even as it was so new.

Nick had seen the young girl rushing towards the ticket window, and reached out his hands as he realized they were going to collide. She fell against him with a soft whoosh, and he became aware of a slight floral scent coming from her. He looked closer and smiled with pleasure at what he saw, as he noticed that she was a young lady, not a girl. Her lace trimmed pale blue frock, and hat with the pink flowers was very feminine, which he had always liked on ladies.

When he took in her face, which was tilted up to him, he noticed her soft pink lips, and creamy skin with a slight flush to the cheeks, all framed by wavy hair the color of honey. Her eyes though were amazing, large and expressive, the color of a summer sky. Nick let his eyes meet hers, and he felt like he was staring into her soul, as he noticed how clear and direct her gaze was. There was happiness in them, and he had a strong longing to get to know her better. It had been a long time since he'd seen anything this pretty and fresh.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to." Priscilla tried to sound coherent, but being so near to the man was scrambling her brains. Her heart felt like it was beating way too fast and loud, and she looked up at him wondering if he could hear it. She swallowed hard, and moving her eyes away from his, she remembered why she'd been rushing. "I need to buy a ticket for the 9:00am Valley Express train." As she said it, Priscilla turned to the man sitting at the window.

"Then this is my lucky day, because I am also taking the train." Nick's voice boomed with delight, causing Priscilla to give him another look. Her grandfather had had the same habit, of talking loudly, and it brought back fond memories. Grandpa Henry had once said that he'd learn to talk that way, from preaching sermons to sleepy Sunday morning congregations. The happy memories didn't stay though, as the ticket seller started talking.

"I'm sorry, there is only one seat left on the train. Who wants it?" The man was small and wizened, wanting nothing more than to get back to his coffee. "Hurry up, the train leaves in less than five minutes." He almost snapped at the couple, who seemed to be more interested in staring at each other.

"It is really important that I am on that train!" Priscilla almost pleaded, remembering Dean Locke's comment from yesterday. She looked imploringly at the handsome, well dressed man, hoping he didn't have an equally important meeting.

Nick wanted to curse his bad luck, but knew to hold his tongue in the presence of a lady. He had been looking forward to getting to know her, even as he wondered if she was going to Stockton. Sighing, he took in her worried eyes, as she realized she might miss the train. The school board interview was not that important he reasoned, since Rufus wouldn't like the grey haired candidate they would be meeting with anyway.

"Well now I would certainly not want to keep you from something important Miss. I can take the next train." Nick offered, removing his hands from her shoulders, and tipping his hat to her. He hoped that he could at least get her name, and where she was going if nothing else. The possibility of a follow-up meeting was at the forefront of his mind.

"Thank you so much! It means everything." Priscilla's voice was full of relief, now that she knew she would be on the train. She concentrated on paying for the ticket quickly, as the seller reminded her again that the train was soon to leave. When she was done she turned back to face her benefactor, and felt very touched at what he'd done for her. Before she was even aware, Priscilla found herself giving him a hug, as she inhaled his scent.

"Thank you again." Suddenly she pulled back, her face turning bright pink as she realized how inappropriate she was acting. Waving goodbye, Priscilla quickly turned and dashed to the train, not wanting to face the man after what she'd done. It was only after she'd found a seat, and sat down, that she speculated on what a ninny the man must have thought she was. As the train pulled out of the station she started to feel sad though, because she would never see him again. The thought was odd, because she didn't even know the man's name, or anything about him, other than he was kind and had honest eyes.

The act of the young lady putting her arms around Nick had both startled and pleased him, and he'd been all set to put his arms around her. It just seemed so natural to hold her close, so when she had suddenly pulled away, it left him feeling empty. He remembered how she'd felt when she'd been against him as they collided, and how her floral fragrance filled his nose. Her bright pink blush made him smile, as Nick marveled at her youth and innocence. It had been a long time since he'd made anyone blush so prettily.

"Mister, you know the next train won't get you to the valley until almost 5:00pm, right?" The ticket seller asked, almost gleefully, seeing how downcast the well dressed gentleman looked.

"Yes, I know. Give me a ticket for that train." Nick nodded his head with resignation, and then went off to send a telegram, to let Jarrod know he would have to attend the school board meeting. He thought about getting Heath to do it, but knew that his younger brother was busy with tasks on the ranch, and the house he was building for Sarah. Nick cursed his luck, but wondered if it was just as well; the pretty girl was probably meeting her beau. That made him start wondering where she might be going to, and who she would be involved with.

It then came to him that he was doing just what he'd done before, with every woman who'd caught his eye. Nick knew that he would build them up in his mind, and then he would have not only meet them, but get their attention too. He could admit that the pretty young girl was not like any of those other women, and she would probably be put off by his past behavior.

Nick sighed, and set his mind to what he could do with the several hours, until the next train. He remembered Heath saying that he wasn't happy with the brick choices that the local builder was offering. He had been involved in the plans, and building of the house, so he knew what Heath and Sarah wanted. Deciding he could be useful, Nick saw that he had enough time to visit a brickyard, and get some other samples. Just because the wheel of fortune wasn't smiling on him didn't mean he couldn't help his brother, who was on the top of the wheel right now.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note: I am bending history here some, with the information about the Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles. It was in fact founded in 1895, with St. John's Cathedral; St. Margret's school does exist, but wasn't opened until 1979.**_

_**Chapter Three**_

Jarrod Barkley forced himself to put a good face on, as he arrived at Reverend Peterson's house. When the telegram from Nick had been delivered earlier that morning, he had sworn out loud. He had way too much work to do, work that wouldn't get done since he had to go help interview a perspective teacher. The only thing keeping him from not going was that his mother shouldn't have to reason with Rufus alone. As he stepped into the parlor he knew he had made the right decision, as he listened to his mother talk to the other occupant.

"Please give this one a chance Rufus. There is less than two months before school starts and we are running out of candidates." Victoria was telling the grey eyed man. "I understand your desire for the teacher to have biblical knowledge, but please keep in mind that we are not running a religious school." She hoped the exasperation she was feeling didn't show in her voice.

"Victoria, the people of Stockton want to entrust their children to a woman of strong faith and principles. I am merely looking out for their best interests." Rufus replied in almost pious tones, which caused Jarrod to want to shake his head. The man's sons, Zack and JR, were barely in their twenties, and could raise hell as well as Nick. Jarrod personally thought that Rufus' interest would be better spent in keeping an eye on his own children, and not everyone else's.

"Jarrod, what are you doing here? Where is Nick?" Victoria was glad of the distraction, because she was having a hard time with Rufus' pronouncement. She knew that the man had not gotten over his wife's, and daughter's death, ten years earlier in a fever epidemic. He had taken an interest in the school, as a tribute to his late wife, who'd been a teacher at one point.

"Nick missed the morning train, so you get me instead." Jarrod answered, not wanting to go into his feelings about that fact in front of Rufus Morton. He could just imagine the man's take on why Nick had missed the train; in fact Jarrod had wondered about the same thing.

"What information do we have on this candidate?" Jarrod asked to change the subject, before Rufus could get going. Usually the committee had the chance to review the application before the interview.

"Not that much, which concerns me, as you can imagine. Her name is Priscilla Converse, and she is about to graduate from the teaching college in San Francisco." Rufus stated, and went on to say that the director had only sent scant information the day before. "We don't want a young, inexperienced teacher." He made the announcement in forceful tones, and both Victoria and Jarrod inwardly sighed.

Just then Reverend Peterson walked into the room with a young woman, and Jarrod's first thought that was that Nick would be sorry that he had missed the train. Jarrod noted how pretty and feminine the teacher looked, which was just up his brother's alley. That thought was quickly followed by the depressing idea that she looked too young and frilly to be an adequate school teacher. Rufus Morton would make mincemeat of her in no time.

Priscilla had liked Reverend Peterson right away, and was surprised to see how nice Stockton was. In truth she wasn't sure what to expect, because her sister's two letters had not mentioned the town at all. The first letter had been all about the great future that was going to happen, and the following letter had been all about how her sister had been hurt, which of course was never her fault.

She saw that it was clean, bright, and well laid out with a busy main street. The church was a simple white structure, with a short steeple. The parsonage, which is what her grandparents would have called the Reverend's house, was warm and welcoming. Josiah Peterson briefly introduced his wife, who said that they would talk more over lunch.

When Priscilla entered the front parlor she saw a tall man with slicked back black hair, hard grey eyes, and a stern expression. He was wearing the western type of suit that most ranchers wore, but she noticed the fabric had an expensive sheen to it, in spite of its plain cut. The woman was petite, with beautiful white hair and blue eyes that saw everything. She radiated the authority of a grand dame, and Priscilla looked at her with interest, as introductions were made.

The letters had only dealt with men her sister was pursuing, which was all she cared about; other women barely existed. Priscilla found it interesting to meet the mother of the men that had read about. Mrs. Barkley reminded Priscilla some of her grandmother, a no-nonsense woman who missed nothing. She could only imagine what the diminutive lady had thought of her sister, as she sighed to herself.

What was more intriguing was that nothing in the letters had mentioned Jarrod Barkley. Priscilla took in the man's sophisticated tailoring and manners, as well as his good looks, and was surprised that her sister had not written about him at all. This man was just her type, so it made her wonder about his brothers, who had been the subject of the letters.

The interview would be conducted over lunch, and while they were waiting the conversation was just about the train ride down. Priscilla heard about the growth of Stockton, and its importance to the valley as a whole. When they sat down to eat, grace was said first, before the food was passed. The meal was roast chicken, with potatoes and gravy, served on good china. She was able to take several bites of her food before the questions started coming.

"Miss Converse I have had the chance to look at your record, and based on your grades you do seem well qualified. I am though concerned about how young you are, and your lack of classroom experience." Rufus Morton had been very taken aback when she'd walked into the front parlor, looking as if she was dressed for a tea party. He was man enough to notice her looks, which were almost too pretty for the school room. His sons would notice her too, and be all set to go back to the schoolhouse, a place they had been glad to leave.

"I have done over twenty hours of student teaching, Mr. Morton." Priscilla wasn't surprised that she was being questioned about her youth. "I don't believe that my record shows the teaching I did at St. Margaret's School, in Los Angeles, for two years before I enrolled at teaching college." She went on to explain that she had attended the school herself, and told how it was a private school that taught both little children and older ones.

"St. Margaret's? Is that a Catholic school?" Rufus didn't think the name sounded like a papist one, but after all Los Angeles was predominately of the Roman faith. His mouth was set in a straight line as he asked the question. He would prefer a woman of the Protestant faith, but had to be careful how he voiced his prejudice.

"No, it is Episcopalian, and affiliated with St. John's Church. My grandmother, who is Scottish and believed in education, founded the school to go along with the church that my grandfather started in the city." Priscilla replied, hoping it didn't make her sound self-important. Rufus was intrigued by the comment of her grandfather starting a church, one of the correct denominations, and wanted to know more.

"I did not know there was an Episcopalian church in the city. When did your grandfather start it?" Rufus had lost interest in his food, as he stared directly at the young woman across the table from him. For all of her frills and lace he started to see that she was not easily intimidated, and he was reminded of his late wife.

"Back in the 1840's my great-great uncle was the English consulate to Los Angeles, and when he arrived in the city he was shocked that there wasn't an Anglican church for him to attend. He was a very religious man, and thought going to church very important." Priscilla smiled as she told the story, showing her dimple, and Jarrod found himself again thinking that Nick was going to kick himself for missing out on meeting the woman.

"He remembered that a nephew of his, my grandfather had just been ordained an Anglican priest. The upshot is that he pretty much ordered him, and his new bride, out to California. My grandparents loved the climate, and stayed on after my great-great uncle returned to England." Rufus was impressed that her grandfather had been not only a clergyman, but also an Englishman; he decided that maybe she would do for the job.

"Miss Converse, were you raised in Los Angeles?" Victoria asked, noticing that the woman had not mentioned her parents at all. She had taken in the expensive clothes, and the very pretty candy box looks of the girl. The honey hair, large pale blue eyes, in the oval face with the gentle features and creamy skin, had her suddenly glad that Nick had missed the meeting. Her middle son would be so smitten that he would be useless for the interview's purpose

"Yes, I was Mrs. Barkley. My parents passed in a fever epidemic when I was six, so my sister and I went to live with my grandparents. I attended St. Margaret's, and later taught there to help out. That was when I discovered how much I enjoyed teaching, and that I wanted to pursue it as a career." Priscilla hoped that her dedication would overcome her youth, because she needed the job.

"Is your sister your only family? Does she live in Los Angeles?" Jarrod asked, more for conversation's sake than anything else. Priscilla shook her head, as she took in his question.

"My sister is older, married, and lives in Denver. My grandmother is still alive, and she lives in Los Angeles; my grandfather passed away three years ago." She went on to explain that her father had been an only child, and she only knew of her English relations by letters they had exchanged.

"Miss Converse, I am very interested in hearing your thoughts on teaching methods, especially for young children learning to read. Can you." Victoria asked, wanting to get the conversation back to the interview. She went on to detail several different approaches, wanting to see what the young woman said.

Victoria listened as the woman explained her approach, and her opinion of the methods. She was more impressed with Miss Converse than she had been expecting to be. The young woman was down to earth, and had a practical outlook on teaching, which came from actual classroom experience, not just reading theories in books. It would have been interesting to hear more from her, Victoria thought, but Rufus wasn't done with his pet concern.

"What are your thoughts about religion in the classroom, Miss Converse?" Rufus had been pleased with her answers to the teaching questions, and her background indicated that it was faith based. However, just being raised in a religious household did not necessarily mean that someone was knowledgeable of God.

"Rufus, we are not running a religious school." Jarrod stated, thinking of all the work he had to do, which this interview was keeping him from. "The school is there to serve all the children of Stockton, to learn how to read, write, as well as history and mathematics. It sounds like Miss Converse is more than qualified on that count." He gave Rufus a stern look, hoping he would get the message, and not keep beating the same horse.

"Thank you Mr. Barkley." Priscilla smiled at the handsome man, appreciating what he was trying to do. She had already heard from Dean Locke though that Rufus Morton was the man in charge, and it was he who would make the final decision.

"I certainly don't mind sharing my thoughts on religion in the classroom." She looked around the table, before settling her gaze on the stern, older man. "It is very important to start the class off on a positive note, and I've found that taking several minutes in the morning, to study a bible verse, very helpful in settling the children down. Once the verse has been read, I have the younger children draw a simple picture, of what the verse meant to them. For the older ones, I have them write a couple of sentences about what it said to them. This also has the benefit of giving them some extra practice in drawing and writing."

"Miss Converse, not all the children who attend the school are of the same faith. How do you handle that?" Jarrod asked sharply, starting to get afraid that she might be even stricter about religion than Rufus. What she said next though made him realize his fear was groundless.

"My grandfather liked to say that while everyone wanted to go to heaven, they didn't want to take the same mode of transportation to get there." Priscilla paused, as a fond look came over her face. "He believed that everyone wanted kindness, goodness, and fairness in their lives – in other words, the same things. St. Margaret's served children of different faiths for that reason. My bible readings would deal with those subjects, which should not cause a problem."

"Since lunch is done, why don't you let me show Miss Converse the school?" Caroline Peterson inquired, after a signal from her husband, Josiah. This would give the board members the chance to review the candidate. The men stood, as Miss Converse excused herself, to follow the reverend's wife out of the room. Only after the door had shut did the discussion begin, with Rufus starting off, to no one's surprise. What came out of his mouth though was one.

"I think we've found our teacher!" He exclaimed with pleasure, a rare smile coming across his face. "She is up to date on teaching methods, and will bring a faithful atmosphere to the classroom." In fact, in Rufus' private thoughts, was the idea that maybe she could do the same for one of his sons.

"Rufus, I thought you didn't want someone inexperienced." Victoria replied, thinking of his earlier statement. She was sure that he was more impressed with the woman's grandfather than her teaching style.

"That was before I realized she had done more student teaching than we knew, Victoria." He answered, turning to Jarrod. "You heard her talk about classroom methods, right? And Victoria, you did say that we needed to get someone hired soon." Rufus' voice carried conviction, and Jarrod had to hide a smile at his mother's words being said back to her.

"Honestly, if you two, along the Reverend Peterson are satisfied with Miss Converse, I will happily agree to the decision." Jarrod remarked, wanting to get back to work, while thinking of what Nick owed him for putting him through this. The next several minutes were spent finalizing the offer, before Miss Converse and Caroline Peterson returned.

When they came in, Victoria asked the teacher her opinion of the school house, and if she had any questions for them. Priscilla did have several questions, which were quickly answered, to her satisfaction. She felt relief when Rufus Morton offered her the job, explaining what the pay and living arrangements were. It was agreed that she would return to Stockton in six weeks time, to get set up for the school year.

"Why don't I walk Miss Converse back to the train, and along the way we will stop by Nettie McDonald's boarding house." Victoria offered, naming the place where the teacher would be living. She explained that Mrs. McDonald ran a very nice rooming house, for women only, that was a block from the school. The goodbyes were said, and Priscilla followed Victoria out into the bright sunshine.

As they walked across the street, Victoria pointed out some of the businesses, and told Priscilla something about the people. The boarding house was a three story, well kept structure with deep front porch, set among a blossoming garden. Priscilla liked Mrs. McDonald, an older widow, right away, and was pleased to see that her room had a small sitting area with a bay window.

"Mrs. Barkley, how long has your family lived in Stockton? Do all your children live here?" They were heading over the train station, and Priscilla was trying to figure out how to find out the information she was curious about.

"We have been here for over thirty years, and let me tell you Miss Converse, it has changed a great deal." Victoria looked at the pretty girl as she made the statement. "I am lucky that my children all live here; in addition to Jarrod my eldest, who you met, I have two other sons and a daughter. Oh, look there is my youngest son Heath and his fiancée." She spied Heath and Sarah down the street, and waved at them to come over.

Priscilla tried to keep her eyes from going wide, as she took in the couple coming up to her. The young woman was pretty, while the man with her was good looking in a solid way. He was wearing ranch clothes, and appeared very ordinary. There was only one reason for her sister to have been interested in this man, and it was because he had not been interested in her; that caused Pricilla to sigh inwardly as she realized her fears were well founded.

"I love your jacket, Miss Converse. It is one of the newer shorter ones, which were in Godey's latest issue." Sarah ran a knowing eye over the garment, after introductions had been made.

"Thank you, my sister sent it to me from Denver just recently. I love your outfit; the fabric and detail is lovely." Priscilla thought the woman looked nice and friendly, and hoped she would get to know her better. The man, Heath, seemed very kind and she could tell that the couple was very much in love.

"Then you will have to call me Sarah, and hopefully you will have lunch with me after you are settled. As far as my clothes, my mother and I own a dressmaking shop – Penny Rose." Sarah replied with pleasure, thinking it would be nice to have a friend who wasn't influenced by who she was marrying.

"I'm glad to hear that, and I will look forward to visiting your store, and having lunch with you." Priscilla replied, as Victoria watched with interest. She had been wondering about the teacher's lavish clothes, and now had the answer. It made her curious as to why the young woman wasn't in Denver looking for a job. Heath speaking sidetracked her, and she turned to face him.

"Has Nick headed back to the ranch yet?" Heath looked around, trying to figure out how his brother wasn't hovering around the pretty, new teacher. The interview must have been interesting, he thought, with Nick trying to flirt with the girl, while Rufus talked religion. Heath was glad to see Sarah chatting happily with the teacher though, and thought the young woman very nice.

"Nick won't be back until this evening; he was delayed so Jarrod took his place." Victoria explained, as Priscilla's ears heard the name she'd been wondering about. She tried not to look too interested, wondering where the man was, but neither Victoria nor Heath made any mention of the whereabouts.

Priscilla suddenly wished that she didn't need the job so much or that her only other choice wasn't the Washington Territory. She could see that Heath was kind and decent, just the kind of man her sister would cause trouble with. It was clear that Heath was close to his brother Nick, and Priscilla was at least glad that the damage to their relationship had not been permanent.

Even as she pondered that, she could admit that she was curious to meet Nick Barkley in person. Her sister had certainly been over the moon, at first, about him. Priscilla wondered about the man who had fallen so hard for her sister, and had almost torn his family apart because of her. Having met Nick's mother and brother, she was sure that the man must have fallen deeply in love with her sister. All the way back on the train she prayed that she was making the right decision, in taking the Stockton job.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Four**_

"I'm home, and I'm hungry. Is Heath here? I have some brick samples." Nick's voice boomed around the hall, as he opened the front door and came in with large strides. He had a burlap bag that he held up, as he saw Jarrod turn to face him, from the parlor.

"Nick, nice of you to finally join us! I hope she was worth it." Jarrod took a sip from the glass of scotch he held, as he asked his question in a cold tone. "I am behind in preparing for my court case, because of you missing the school board meeting."

"Now wait a minute, it wasn't like that at all." Nick was indigent, as he realized what Jarrod was implying, about the cause of his missing the train. He was further annoyed, when Heath came into the room and took up Jarrod's cause.

"Really, are you trying to tell us that it wasn't because of a woman that you missed the train?" Heath's blue eyes crinkled at the corners, as he teased his brother. Nick snorted, and stomped his foot, as his temper started to rise. He had done a good deed, by giving up his seat to the pretty girl who needed to get on the train.

"You see it was." Nick stopped, deciding that explaining wouldn't get him anywhere, and they wouldn't believe him anyway. "Never mind. Heath, I picked up some brick samples for you and Sarah." He hoped that the items would get the conversation going in a different direction. His mother's arrival put an end to that hope. Victoria kissed him on the cheek, and then looked him directly in the eye.

"Nick, why weren't you at the school board lunch?" Victoria asked with a sigh, doubting that she would even want to hear the real reason. "We have talked about you needing to get more involved in the community – besides the Cattlemen's Association and the local watering holes." She held up her hand to forestall any excuses he might offer.

By now Nick was even angrier at the assumptions that his family was making, and he was all set to say something. A voice inside his head, saying that his past behavior led to them asking, stopped him from denying their assumptions. Nick saw that the voice was right, about why his family would think the way they were. That revelation brought up the realization of just what his personal life had become, and how his family saw him.

"I missed the train, Mother." He decided to leave it at that, and went on to apologize. "Look, I didn't mean to miss the meeting, but would my being there have mattered? Rufus, I'm sure, didn't like this grey haired school teacher any better than he liked the others." As Nick made his observation he turned to get himself a drink, and missed the look his brothers exchanged.

Jarrod had heard from his mother that the new teacher had met Heath and Sarah, so he knew that Heath was aware of how pretty the young lady was. It came to him, as he regarded Nick's back, that they could have some fun with their middle brother. Heath, catching Jarrod's eye, saw what he was thinking, and inclined his head slightly, in agreement. He made a mental note to tell Sarah about the joke, so she wouldn't spill the beans with Nick. Victoria, in other circumstances would have intervened, but rather thought that Nick had it coming, after missing the meeting.

"Actually, we hired the candidate Nick. Rufus even approves of her; one of her relatives was a minister. She believes in bible reading in the classroom, as part of the lessons." Jarrod carefully edited his response, not answering the grey haired comment.

"Really, Rufus likes her? So you hired her? Those poor kids." Nick had finished getting his glass of whiskey, and he turned back around to face his family. "Mother, couldn't you have done something?" He directed the question to Victoria, not believing that she'd gone along with Rufus' candidate.

"Nick, school starts in less than two months, and we are running out of time. This woman became available at the last minute. She is well qualified, and I think it will work out well for the school." His mother explained. "She will be arriving in six weeks, so you can meet her then Nick." Privately she was chuckling at what reaction her middle son was going to have, when he met the teacher.

"No thank you. I'm not entertaining any grey haired schoolmarms who want to quote the bible." Nick retorted, knocking back his whiskey. Honestly, he thought to himself, this evening was going downhill faster than a runaway horse. He looked over at Heath for help, but the man was now reading a letter, which Nick asked about.

"It is from Audra, and arrived today. She is enjoying New York, and already has four beaux, and a dozen new dresses." Heath read several comments from the letter, while trying to imagine Nick's reaction when he finally met the new school teacher. The drama at the playhouse would have nothing on the entertainment value that that would have.

Heath had certainly thought the new teacher was pretty, and he had liked how she and Sarah seemed to get along. It had caught his attention when he heard her last name, and looked closer at her, to see if there was a resemblance to the last Converse he'd had dealings with. Trained observer that he was, Heath couldn't see any similarities, and chocked it up to one of those coincidences that sometimes happens.

The rest of the evening passed well, with Heath liking several of the brick selections Nick had brought home. Nothing else was said about Nick's missing of the train, or the school board meeting. Heath and Jarrod were interested to hear what the mining partner had passed along, about the operation. At the end of the night, earlier than anyone else, Nick headed upstairs; it was always that way. He got up before anyone else, and always went to bed before any of the others.

Occasionally he tried to stay up, to hear what was being said, but nothing he heard was worth being tired the next day. He sometimes envied Heath, not needing the amount of sleep that Nick did. The offset was that his youngest brother provided companionship for their mother when Jarrod was out of town. Jarrod was always up late, saying he did his best work at night, and Nick knew that Victoria liked the company.

It had always been an issue with his parents that Nick had seen firsthand, that Tom needed to go to bed early, while Victoria liked to stay up. At the back of his mind was the thought that when he married, he would want his wife to go to bed with him, just for the companionship. Nick had always liked to have people close to him, and he was very tactile in how he approached the world.

Now, as he turned in, his mind went back to the scene at the train station, and the pretty girl who needed to get on the train. Nick could see her clearly in his mind, how pink, white, and blue, like a bouquet of summer flowers. As he turned on to his side, he envisioned her meeting her beau, who was waiting for her. It made him sad, because he wanted to be the one meeting her at the arrival. Nick took secret satisfaction in how she had hugged him, closely and with warmth; it was from the heart and had nothing to do with appropriate behavior. He hoped that her beau appreciated those qualities in her, because he knew that he would, if he was ever lucky enough to have a girl like that.

The next six weeks passed quickly for Nick, being swept up in the round-up of the huge herd of cattle. He and Heath worked from _can't see to can't see_ – the old terminology from the plantations - as they consolidated the animals together. Nick loved working the land, the cattle, and being with Heath, as they dealt with Mother Nature and ornery animals. It was finally during the last week of the cattle drive, that Nick had the chance to have the talk he wanted to, with Heath.

All the thoughts that had been swirling around in his brain had been forced to the back, until finally the last night, before they took the cattle into town to load the railcars heading east. He and Heath were tired, but happy, relaxed around the campfire, which was set a little apart from the rest of the men. Nick had brought his flask, a sterling silver one engraved with his initials and his eighteenth birthday, which had been a gift from his father.

The crescent moon was low in the sky, and both men were feeling the whiskey, as they sipped spiked coffee in their tin cups. The first part of the conversation was about the drive itself, before they moved on to some issues with Heath's house. The construction was scheduled to be done by the first of the year, with the wedding to take place in February. It was Heath's reference to the nuptials that made Nick bring up his emotional drama.

He shifted on the rough ground, trying to get a little more support for his back, which was against a tree trunk. Nick could smell the sage from the underbrush off to the side, and inhaled deeply, as he gathered his thoughts. Heath would understand, and hopefully be able to offer some insight into what was happening with him; that thought made him able to overcome his fear of talking about it out loud.

"So, three times now, I have experienced this sense of having my sight and hearing extra-heightened. Then there is this cold loneliness that comes over me, as if an ice wall separates me from everyone else." Nick had already told Heath about the occasions that it had happened; he went on. "It doesn't make any sense, because I am always surrounded by people who all like me greatly!"

That for Nick was what was so hard; each time he had been in his element- king of the world, with everyone acknowledging his superiority. Nick felt awkward admitting that to Heath, adding that last time, in San Francisco, he could at least see that it would not have ended well, if he had not left like he did.

Heath looked over at his brother, who to the world appeared the confident, successful man. He could finally acknowledge what Nick had had to go through, after their father had been killed. The man was barely twenty-five, left to run the ranch – men and cattle- while Jarrod dealt with the legal issues. Nick had been forced to proclaim his authority, oftentimes against men much older than he was. Heath, when he'd come into the 'family business' so to speak, had gotten a taste of the struggle.

Nick Barkley was a man who loved his land, and family, with a passion that was fierce. Heath had seen, on more than one occasion, how his brother would rise to any challenge, just for the sake of staking his honor and family name. The man at the end of the day, Heath had finally understood, was just trying to fill Tom Barkley's shoes much sooner than what he should have had to.

In Heath's opinion, Nick was at least twice the man that Tom had been, if not more so. Heath just wished he could find some way to tell Nick that, without insulting their father. Hearing Nick now, talking about his episodes of loneliness, he wanted to laugh. He could see that Nick was the man who had every thing, but nothing at the same time. His brother needed what he, Heath, had found – a woman who loved him, and was a friend too. Sarah had brought the piece that was missing from him, and Nick needed to find someone who would do that for him. Mentally sighing, Heath wondered if it would happen for his brother, with the way he went about it. His approach and selection process had not worked so far, but he didn't want to remind him of that.

"Nick, I think you've worked hard to make the ranch and the family holdings a success, which you have done many times over. Maybe mother nature, or God, or both, are trying to tell you that while you have all the material possessions you want, you don't have a lot of spiritual ones." Heath sounded diffident, not being totally comfortable talking about soul matters with Nick. He glanced over at his brother, and saw that he was staring into his coffee mug, with a thoughtful expression.

"In the Native American culture, they believe that people have to feed their spirit self, as much as their physical self." Heath went to explain what he meant by that, as Nick listened to what was being said.

"Heath, how is this going to help me find someone to love?" Nick queried, feeling rather confused by what his brother was saying. He felt Heath's piercing glance, and shrugged his shoulders; Nick wasn't an introspective person.

"All I'm saying is that you are now aware that you want more than a pretty face in your life, Nick. If you pay attention to what is inside you, the next time you meet a woman, you are going to look differently at her." Heath struggled to find the right words, ones that his brother would hear. "Nick, you need to take the time to look beyond the pretty face, and see what her character is like. Then think about what you want in your life, and see if the two mesh up." In his mind it was a simple process, but realized that for Nick it wasn't.

"When I look back on my past loves, with one or two exceptions, all I've seen is the pretty face." Nick finally got what Heath was trying to tell him, and it made him think of his fool's gold analogy. He had been so blinded by the glitter that he had not seen the base metal underneath. The face of the girl from the train came to mind, all fresh and clean, as her emotions showed clearly in her summer sky eyes. He wished he would have had the chance to get to know her, Nick told himself, thinking what he now understood.

"I have to give you credit Nick, they were very pretty." Heath laughed, to break the seriousness of the discussion. He hoped that Nick would think about what had been said, and take it to heart. Hannah had once told him that people only hear what they want to, and you can only offer so much advice to someone.

Nick joined in the laughter, and they talked a while longer, before turning in for the night. As Nick closed his eyes he felt more at peace than he'd had in a long time. He had been right, about his family and his land being the ones who would help him with his problem, he thought as he fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter Five**_

Nick Barkley barely made it into church before the service started, sliding into the last pew at the rear. He and Heath had made it back to the ranch, after the drive, several days earlier, and had spent the time catching up. On Saturday night Heath had gone to have dinner with Sarah, while Nick and some of the hands headed into town, to drink and have a good time. Of course that had gone on until almost 2:00 am, when he finally headed home.

His head was pounding now, in spite of the coffee he'd had, and Nick started to wonder if he wasn't getting too old for those kinds of nights. It had been great to be with the men, and let loose for a while; it also kept him from being alone. Several of the fancy ladies had approached him, and while he'd enjoyed a round of drinks with each of them, Nick had passed on anything else. The thought of just a short physical relationship didn't interest him; he wanted something deeper and more meaningful, even if he wasn't sure what it was.

He wished now though that he had passed on the rounds of drinks as well, and that he was still in bed. His mother though would have his hide if he had missed church because of a hangover. Nick shifted his long legs, wishing the sun wasn't so bright as it came through the window.

He looked around the church, seeing his family in the third pew from the altar, along with Sarah and her mother. His attention was distracted by Caroline Peterson, the reverend's wife coming down the aisle, with someone else. Nick's eyes widened and he tried to get a better look as they walked by, not believing what he was seeing.

It was the young lady from the train, he was sure of that, even though he only saw her profile as she passed the pew he was in. Nick watched the trim figure, prettily covered in a mint green dress with lavender ruffles on the bustle, and a great deal of frothy lace. Her honey colored hair was crowned with a small hat trimmed with violets and purple ribbon. He sat up straighter, his headache suddenly gone, as he scrutinized the pair heading down the aisle.

Watching the young woman walk with Mrs. Peterson, Nick wondered if she was a relative of the minister and his wife. He tried to remember what he knew about the Peterson's family, but couldn't come up with anything. It also bothered him that his mother had not said anything about the young woman. Victoria always knew of any visitors in the valley, and talked about them over dinner. The whole thing perplexed him, and he could hardly wait for the service to be over, to go finally meet the young woman formally.

Sitting in the last pew meant that he was one of the first ones out, after the service, so he positioned himself carefully. Nick took it as a sign from above when the young woman came out by herself, and he moved quickly before she was intercepted by anyone.

"The last time we saw each other I didn't get your name, but I hope I will this time." Nick smiled winningly, as he looked at the pretty girl standing in front of him. He noticed again her lovely eyes, creamy skin, and very soft pink lips in an oval face with gentle features. She was as adorable as he remembered he noted to himself, having started to wonder if he'd built her up too much in his mind.

"Oh, the kind gentleman from the train!" Priscilla exclaimed, as her cheeks flushed slightly pink at the memory of their last meeting. She had been in Stockton for almost a week, getting settled and setting up the school room. At the back of her mind she had wondered about the man, and if he lived in the area. "Thank you again for what you did, it really meant everything." It was because of him that she had the job, and Priscilla put her hand on his arm as she said it.

The man was as tall as she remembered, with the direct hazel eyes in a strong face. Priscilla had not noticed his dimple before, which only added to his good looks. She felt the butterflies start moving in her stomach, as she looked into his eyes.

"Well now you did me a big favor, by taking the seat on the train. I was supposed to help interview some grey haired schoolmarm for a teaching position." Nick grinned, liking how her hand, it its lacey glove, felt on his arm. He wanted to move closer, to see if he could smell the floral fragrance that he associated with her, but suddenly felt her stiffen slightly, so he didn't. She started to remove her hand, which he only vaguely noticed, being too busy with his story.

"I'm on the school board you see, rather a bad joke just between us, and I find school teachers very unnerving." He finished the story, and waited for a reaction from her, but she was giving him an odd look. Priscilla for her part was taken aback by his rude comments about grey haired school teachers, and was all set to say something when a different idea came to her. She had what her grandfather had once called a very wicked sense of humor, and she decided to use it to teach the man a lesson. _Handsome is as handsome does_ her grandmother had always said, Priscilla reminded herself as she regarded the man standing next to her.

"Do all school teachers have grey hair? What were the other candidates like?" She asked innocently, opening her eyes wider and tilting her head. Priscilla was pleased to see that he took the bait like a hungry big mouth bass.

"Grey hair, winkles, frowns, the whole works. I haven't met the one they hired, but my understanding is that she is very strict. Those poor kids are going to be getting their knuckles rapped with a ruler." Nick made several other observations, liking how the young lady was listening to him. He became rather annoyed when Heath walked up, interrupting his time with the woman.

"Heath, hello." Priscilla turned to look at him. She was sure he would know the person she was talking to, since Stockton was not that large. "This gentleman, oh I don't know your name; here was just telling me his thoughts on school teachers, especially the new one." The merriment was apparent in her voice, as she tossed her head slightly at Heath to let him in on the joke. Heath heard what she was saying, and realized that Nick was once again sticking his foot in his mouth. He was also unsettled by the gesture she had done with her head; it reminded him of someone he'd met before.

"You know my brother?" Nick was surprised that Heath had not told him about the young woman. "By the way, I'm Nick Barkley. What is your name?" He added belatedly, and wondered why she was now looking at him with a horrified expression on her face. Priscilla was in fact aghast to find out who this man was, and she worked hard to get control of herself. Of all the people he could have been, he turned out to be the one she had not wanted him to be.

"Priscilla Converse. It is nice to meet you, Nick." She hoped her voice sounded even as she replied, having forgotten all about the school teacher remarks. Nick for his part, hearing the last name, almost winced as he thought about the memories it brought to the surface. Before he could ponder it any further there was a distraction. Rufus Morton was walking up, with two young men behind him.

"Miss Converse, good morning. Did you enjoy the reverend's sermon?" Rufus beamed with pleasure as he took in the pretty girl, standing there in the morning sunshine. He liked how the golden rays glowed around her, and he was glad to see his boys paying attention too. After making sure they were following along, he said hello to the others, adding "Nick, I see you've met our new school teacher. She is going to be an asset to the valley, and we were very lucky to hire her – even without your help."

Nick, off balance anyway by the last name, now felt like he was suckered punched as he heard Rufus' words. Those words made him forget the matter of her last name, as the remarks he'd made about grey haired schoolmarms came back to haunt him; he winced as the comments ran around his mind. His big mouth had landed him in trouble again, and Nick could only imagine what the young woman thought of him now. He looked over at her, and she was giving him a pitying look, even as her eyes danced with amusement.

"Actually, Nick made it possible for me to make the interview, Mr. Morton." Priscilla went on to tell about the train incident, and how he'd given her the last seat. She had decided to be friendly, but cool to Nick Barkley, to keep him at arm's length. His remarks had been rude, but she had encouraged him in making them. It was his relationship with her sister that made it necessary to keep her distance.

"Now that is just like Nick, to be so helpful!" The blonde haired young man, standing behind Mr. Morton stepped forward. "Why last year it was because of Nick that JR, my brother." He indicated the other young man, who had brown hair "He helped JR and myself buy some first quality livestock for our ranch. I'm Zack Morton by the way."

Zack was in fact referring to the bet that Nick had made, over the rodeo, which had resulted in the Mortons winning $5,000. He could see that Nick didn't like being reminded of that fact, which made him happy. Having driven the knife in, he turned it for good measure, as he looked at the pretty teacher.

"Miss Converse, may I call you Priscilla? My Pa says you are coming to Sunday dinner at our house?" Zack was good at being charming, she could see, and it was also clear that Nick was very annoyed at what Zack had said about the livestock. Figuring that it served him right for his remarks, she held out her lace gloved hand to Zack.

"Yes, of course you can call me Priscilla. I'm happy to meet you and JR." She turned in his direction, and saw that he was staring at her bemusedly. It came to her that she would have to be careful with these two young men. JR was in fact awed at the beauty standing in front of him, and the fact that she was going to have dinner with them was even better. He was suddenly glad that his Pa was on the school board, and had set this up.

Heath listened to them talk for several minutes, before they excused themselves, with Rufus protectively taking Priscilla's arm. It had been strange to see the normally dour man so affable, but could admit that the teacher was worth being happy about. Heath then looked over at his brother, who wore a stricken expression and wanted to laugh. It was rather funny that Priscilla had managed to get the better of him in very little time.

"Why didn't you tell me what the new school teacher looked like?" Nick felt his temper rising, as he watched Priscilla walk away with the Mortons, and ground his teeth in frustration. He had made a fool of himself, insulted the pretty girl, and then had to put up with Zack's taunts. This had to be the worse day ever, he muttered, as his hangover came back with a vengeance.

"Nick, you never asked." Heath replied blandly, thinking of the joke he and Jarrod had done after Nick had missed the train. He felt rather bad now that he knew the reason why, and not what he'd thought it had been. However, he rather liked how Priscilla had handled his brother who could be rather full of himself at times. "Boy howdy, that little gal put you in your place." Heath laughed, wondering if his brother had finally met someone, and also trying to figure out whom that head tossing gesture reminded him of. He was left standing alone, as Nick stomped off in an evil temper.

Victoria, Jarrod, Heath, Sarah, and her mother Penelope, were seated at the table, with Silas hovering nearby, waiting to serve Sunday dinner. They were waiting on Nick, who had disappeared out to the barn when they returned home from church. Victoria was all set to ask Heath to go get him, when the man came in, clearly in a black mood.

"Nick, how nice of you to join us, but I wish that you would put a pleasant expression on your face." Victoria observed as he almost threw himself down into the chair. She gave him a cutting look, and noticed that he responded by at least sitting up straight. Before she could inquire about his mood, Heath answered her unasked question.

"Just ignore him mother, he is upset that he made a fool of himself, with the new school teacher when he met her after church." Heath shared, exchanging a knowing smile with Sarah, who he had told the whole story too.

"Really Nick, this must be a new record for you, with a young woman. You only knew her for what – five minutes?" Jarrod offered, as he took some of the roast pork that Silas was offering. He mentally counted, wondering how long it would take before his brother exploded.

"Why didn't someone tell me what she looked like?" Nick's voice boomed around the dining room, causing Penny to jump slightly. She was privately glad that her daughter Sarah was marrying the softer voiced Heath, rather than his explosive brother. It was clear that peace and quiet did not exist when Nick Barkley was around.

"If you had not missed the train, you would have known." Jarrod replied, remembering how behind it had put him, to attend the meeting instead of Nick.

"She was the reason I missed the train." Nick retorted, looking at Heath for confirmation. His younger brother told the story that he had just heard that morning.

"Nick, why didn't you just tell us that?" Victoria sighed, shaking her head at her son's ways. "Honestly you do this to yourself. What exactly did you say to the teacher?" She asked, as a cold fear came over her; her middle son and the word tact did not go together. Nick became very busy taking roast pork, and Victoria noted that he wasn't complaining about it not being beef.

"Lots of comments about grey haired schoolmarms, that kind of thing." Heath tried to keep the laughter out of his voice. "I will say though that Priscilla egged him on; he walked right into the trap she laid out." He went on to explain the situation, which had everyone but Nick laughing.

"I'm glad you all think it is funny, because I DON'T! Then I had to have Zack rub it in my face about, well, anyway, she went off to have dinner with the Mortons." He almost snarled the words, as he speared a piece of meat. "Why aren't we having beef?" Nick was now sure that this was the worst Sunday he had ever experienced.

"Nick, please don't raise your voice at the table." Victoria admonished. "I am not surprised that Rufus wasted no time in inviting her to dinner. He was very impressed with her grandfather, from what I could see at the interview." She took a bite of her food, as Penny asked what she meant, so Victoria explained about the man.

"Ha! Rufus hired her because she is pretty and he has two sons that he would like to see married. Her religious background was the icing on the cake." Jarrod countered, having seen the calculating way the older man had looked at Priscilla during the interview.

"Jarrod, you might be right; Zack and JR were ogling her very intently." Heath paused, and seeing how sour Nick looked, decided to turn the screw even more. "You know though, if those boys aren't quick enough, Rufus might go after her himself. I've never seen the man look so happy as when he took her arm." The remark hit its target.

"GOOD GOD! He is old enough to be her father, Heath!" Nick declared, starting to think he wasn't that hungry after all. The thought of the pretty girl with any of the Mortons, let alone Rufus, caused fury to rise up in him.

"Heath that is not funny, nor is it appropriate table conversation." Victoria saw that Nick had been pushed too far, and wanted to head him off. "Nick, calm down and finish eating. I am sure that Miss Converse did not take your remarks that seriously. However, if I were you, I would apologize at some point, for good measure. Sarah, what do you think Reverend Peterson meant with his sermon." She hoped her words would soothe Nick, and talking about the sermon would be more uplifting conversation.

The rest of the meal passed in peace, and after dessert everyone went their separate ways. Heath took Sarah and her mother home, planning on spending the rest of the afternoon with them. Victoria went to rest, while Jarrod disappeared into the study, citing work he had to do. Nick was left at loose ends, so he went to the tack room in the barn, to see what needed mending. The barn was cool, empty, and dim; the work of stitching a bridle gave him time to think.

Nick had been thirteen when his dad had set him to work in the tack room, dealing with all the ripped and torn leather goods. He had been insulted that his father expected him to sew – that was women's work after all! Tom Barkley had slapped him, while informing him that a true cowboy could take care of his equipment no matter what.

The next two months had been spent with Nick doing nothing but sewing broken equipment. At the end of it, Nick had a new respect for what it took to be a cowboy, and an excellent talent with the needle. Nick had seen that if he did it right the first time he would not have to do it again, so he paid attention. Now, he found satisfaction in dealing with the leather mending; being busy with his hands left his brain free to think about other things.

The other things – or the thing being Priscilla, came to his mind, as he sewed the bit strap back in place he saw her face in his mind. The last name brought up memories that were not pleasant in anyway. His ex-fiancée Hester came to mind, and he found himself tightening his hands into fists as he sucked in his breath. The memory of the woman that had caused him to try to kill his brother, before leaving him almost paralyzed was one of the lowest points of his life.

For the first time in three years he saw Hester in his mind, as he remembered their meeting. She was dazzling, rather like the opening lines of Lord Byron's poem – _She walks in beauty, like the night; Of cloudless climes and starry skies._ Hester, with her raven black hair, dark flashing eyes, and dazzling presence had embodied the verse. Hester took over any room she walked into, taking every man with her.

Nick, as he sewed pictured Hester and Priscilla in his mind, and could not see any physical – or emotional similarities between the two women. Hester had been tall, with black hair and eyes, in a heart shaped face with – he admitted now – rather sharp features. Priscilla was barely medium height, with fair hair, blue eyes, and gentle features in a soft oval face.

There was also the matter that Hester had never told him about any family that she had, Nick recalled. She did say that her parents had died when she was young, and she was now living in San Francisco with her guardian. It had been through his friend, a lawyer, that he'd been able to get an introduction to Hester. Nick could cringe now at how he had proposed on the spot, and couldn't even blame drinking for his actions.

No, there was no relation between Priscilla and Hester, other than a very common last name. Nick had heard about Priscilla's family, and the lofty English connection. He was sure that if Hester could have claimed that, she would have been all over it. No, it was just one of those odd coincidences that happened. Nick also saw how it was sidetracking him from what he really needed to be thinking about.

It was clear that he owed Priscilla an apology and an explanation too. His comment about him on the school board being a joke was in his mind too; Priscilla wouldn't see the board as a joke. The school board was her employer, which made him her boss, in a roundabout way. Carefully stitching the torn leather, he wished yet again that Jarrod had not put him on the board. Nick was worried that she might misconstrue either his comments, or his interest in her, provided that she ever talked to him again.

As he examined the stitches on the bridle, Nick thought about his options, and what he should do. It came to him that if Rufus could play matchmaker for his sons, with the teacher, that would be no worse than Nick asking her out. They were both on the board after all, he reasoned. That still left the problem of him needing to apologize to Priscilla.

Nick became aware that it was late afternoon, and he figured that she was probably backed from the Mortons. He remembered that school teachers would do extra work at the school house, and decided to go into town, to see if Priscilla was there. If that was the case, it would give them the chance to talk privately, without interruptions. Since he was on the board, Nick thought, no one would think it unusual for him to stop by the school house. Feeling a great deal more cheerful, he went to saddle Coco and head into town.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter Six**_

Priscilla was in the school house, organizing books in the library corner, in preparation for school starting. She had been impressed with the building when she had first seen it, six weeks earlier. There was the large central room that was setup as class area, but with one corner being designated for reading. There were bookcases, and several chairs, along with a table that held a lamp. At the back of the schoolhouse was a small kitchen area, along with an indoor water closet.

It was very lavish in comparison to where she could be teaching, and Priscilla had enjoyed making it her own. She had brought a great deal of materials with her, most of them courtesy of her granny, but the school had a good inventory also. Obviously the town of Stockton took education seriously, she saw, and hoped that she would be able to live up to the standard.

She had decided to come do more work with the library corner, after returning to town from dinner with the Mortons. The meal had been quite good, and Mr. Morton had been very congenial, as he showed her around the house. It was clear that the study was the only room used, with the rest of the house having a cold, dark feel to it. Priscilla heard about Mr. Morton's late wife, and was sure that since her passing nothing had changed in the rooms.

Zack had turned out to be funny and good company, while JR seemed to be tongue tied. His staring at her was off putting, and she wondered if he was always that way around women. Priscilla had made it a point to be equally friendly to both, while not flirting in the least. She had no interest in any kind of a relationship, with anyone in Stockton. Her plan was to fulfill the teaching contract she'd signed, which was for a year. After that she was going to re-apply to St. Margaret's, and see if she would be considered experienced enough for them.

The idea of a relationship in Stockton brought to mind the man she'd spent all afternoon trying not to think about. Priscilla still couldn't believe that the kind, handsome man from the train was in fact Nick Barkley. If that was not enough, the whole conversation with him after church had her feeling awkward. She could just hear Grandfather Henry chiding her, for how she had egged him on to make those statements. None of that would have happened if she'd only known, Priscilla sighed to herself.

At least now she understood how Nick had swept her sister off of her feet so quickly. Priscilla could still remember the surprise that she'd experienced, when her sister's first letter arrived in Los Angeles. The thought of the party girl going off to live on a ranch seemed improbable; even Granny Elspeth had remarked that nothing good would come of it. The woman did not have the Celtic second sight, rather had known Hester all too well.

Nick Barkley was handsome, vital, charming – everything a man should be. In Priscilla's mind that, along with his history with her sister, made him dangerous, and someone to be kept at arm's length. Even as she was thinking that, she could see his face in her mind, with its infectious grin, which made her wish things were different.

Priscilla's thoughts were interrupted by a knocking on the door, and she rose up to go answer it. She wondered who it was, as she looked down at the clothes she was wearing. The simple skirt of blue printed cotton, and cream colored blouse was cool, and very appropriate for the work she'd been doing. Hoping it wasn't a parent at the door, she turned the knob, and when the door opened it was the last person she wanted to see.

Nick had made good time riding into town, after having changed his shirt; he had debated putting his suit back on, but thought it seemed a bit much. When he arrived at the school house he noticed that the windows were open, so he took that to be a good sign. Tethering his horse to the rail outside, he climbed the small stairs to the porch, on knocked on the door.

He smiled when she opened the door, thinking how pretty she looked, and that he was glad she was there. Priscilla's blue flowered skirt was offset by a cream colored blouse with puff sleeves and a ruffled collar. She looked cool, and fresh, Nick thought, even as he was noticing how thick her honey colored hair was, loosely put up and framing her face, with a few tendrils framing her face. The other two times he'd seen her, she'd been wearing elaborate clothes, but even in an everyday outfit she still looked good.

"Hello Priscilla, may I come in and talk to you?" Nick asked, working to keep his voice low, as he took of his hat. He wouldn't blame her if she slammed the door in his face, after his remarks this morning. Regarding her, Nick saw almost apprehension in her blue eyes, which he didn't understand; she wasn't afraid of him, was she?

In fact Priscilla was shocked that the man she'd just been thinking about was now standing in the doorway. His voice held a serious note, and she became afraid that he'd figured out who her sister was. She had wondered if her last name would cause any questions from the Barkley family, but until now no one had said anything. Her plan had been to be upfront if someone asked, but otherwise she wasn't going to mention Hester.

It helped that she and her half-sister looked nothing alike, each taking after their mothers. Priscilla, now that she was older, was sure that there was significance in her father's choice of wives. His first, Hester's mother, had been an actress, while his second wife, Priscilla's mother, had been the daughter of a reverend. If Hester's mother had been anything like her daughter, the man had probably wanted calmness and peace the second time around.

She looked up at Nick now; worried about what he would say when she told him who her sister was. Priscilla now felt even worse than she already did, about the trick she'd played on him in the churchyard. It had been cruel and unkind, something more like what her sister would have done, Priscilla thought shamefully. It didn't help that the butterflies had starting fluttering in her stomach, or that her heart was beating fast as he gazed at her.

"Yes, of course you may." Priscilla tried not to stammer. "I have to say it is very nice for a school house, and I'm looking forward to teaching here." She felt like she was babbling, so she shut her mouth, and waited for him to come inside. He was surveying the room she could tell, as he fiddled with his hat in his gloved hands.

"I've never been in here before, I hate to admit." Nick couldn't believe that comment had come out of his mouth. He was on the school board, and he should have been in the school house; of all the stupid things to say. "That came out wrong, let me explain." Inwardly he was cursing, and decided to get straight to his apology.

"Listen, I have this very bad habit, of which you've seen yet again, of talking without thinking. Priscilla, I would like to apologize for what I said this morning. It was wrong, and rude of me to have made those comments." He stared at the floor sheepishly, before he glanced from under his eyes, to see her reaction.

Priscilla was regarding him intently, as she took in his demeanor and listened to the tone in his voice. That Nick was truly sorry was clear, she saw, based on his current actions. For some reason it touched her deeply, that this proud man – yes, she had seen that the first time they met – was in front of her, hat in his hands. Priscilla realized that he wasn't here to ask her about her sister, which was a huge relief; one that didn't last though. Grandpa Henry was suddenly in her mind, as he reminded her what she'd done that morning, which contributed to the incident.

"Nick, thank you, and I gladly accept your apology. However, I need to offer one of my own." She stopped and waited until he was looking her in the face. "I should have told you who I was, or stopped you before you went any further. My sense of humor sometimes takes a wicked turn, to quote my late grandfather." She gave him a tentative smile, which he thought charming, even as he was turning over what she'd said in his mind.

Her apology, for her part in the happenings that morning took him by surprise. Nick remembered Heath's comment at the dinner table, about how quickly Priscilla had gotten the better of him. It occurred to him now that she was not only pretty, but clever and sharp witted too. He had walked willingly into the trap, and now could admire how ingenious she'd been. Earlier, at dinner, he'd not been able to see the funny side of the encounter, but now he did. His laughter rang around the schoolroom, and Priscilla found herself joining in.

"Shall we start again? I am Nick Barkley, and I am very pleased to meet you." He announced, after they had stopped laughing. Her laughter had been genuine Nick had noticed, not the polite titter a lot of ladies did. "Would you show me the schoolhouse, Priscilla?" Nick asked, after she had introduced herself and they'd shaken hands. It was tempting to want to hold hers longer, and he wished he had taken off his gloves. He did that now, and put them inside his hat, as he scanned the room for somewhere to lay it down.

"Why don't you put your hat on the table here, in the library corner?" Priscilla indicated, seeing what he was looking for. "I'm sure this is very different than when you were here." She added, as they walked over to the corner.

"Yes, very different. Let me tell you." Nick told her what it had been like, in the old building that this one had replaced. After that story, he asked her questions as she showed him the library, as well as her teaching materials. He was a good conversationalist, and Priscilla realized too that he was very smart, based on the questions he was asking.

"Nick, how did you end up on the school board, if you don't mind me asking?" She was perplexed as to why he was involved like he was. The man was clearly not married, and from what she'd heard his only domestic interests were horses and cattle. Nick laughed, and replied that he wondered that himself, before he told her the story of his mother and brother. Having met the two people, Priscilla had no problems seeing how his position had come about.

"I've taken up enough of your time, Priscilla, but I want you to know that I've really enjoyed talking to you." Nick was surprised to notice that he'd been at the schoolhouse for almost an hour; the time had passed quickly. It was so easy to be with her, and talk about everyday things; being with her was very calming to him he realized. He though felt bad that he'd kept her from the work she had been doing, before he had shown up. "Would you like to go on a picnic sometime? Maybe next weekend?" He hoped he wasn't rushing things, but figured that since their conversation had gone so well it would be fine.

"I'm sorry Nick; I don't think that would be a good idea." Priscilla couldn't keep the regret out of her voice, as she turned him down. He was someone she would have liked to have spent time with, but past circumstances made that impossible. "I'm new in town, and in a position of authority; I don't want to open myself up to gossip. Please don't take this the wrong way." Her reply sounded stilted, but she'd not been able to come up with anything else on short notice.

"You don't think having dinner with Zack and JR Morton isn't going to cause gossip?" Nick didn't mean to retort like he did, but the memory of Jarrod and Heath's remarks at dinner rankled in his mind. He was suddenly afraid that he'd pushed too hard, and said too much. Priscilla's eyes widened for a moment, before she pressed her lips together in a tight line.

"Not that it is any of your business, who I eat with, but Mr. Morton is head of the school board and for your information, Deacon Richens and his family were also present." She was standing up very straight, and her voice held a cold note, as she replied. Nick closed his eyes, and wished he could take back the remark he'd said in haste.

His shoulders hung, as he looked down at the floor, trying to think of what to say. There was also the thought that yet again Priscilla had managed to get the better of him. She was right, it was not for him to say who she should eat with, and Nick found himself admiring her, even as she was putting him in his place.

"Priscilla, you are right; it is none of my business and I should not have said anything. Did I mention that I have this habit of speaking without thinking?" He looked over at her, as he held out his hands, palms up in pleading. Nick was relieved to see a smile on her face, before she giggled a bit. His earlier thought, of how adorable she was, came back to him like a hard gust of wind that could knock him over.

"Nick Barkley, you must spend a lot of time eating your words." Priscilla quipped, giving him a saucy look. She liked how he had realized what was wrong with what he'd said, and also the fact that he laughed with his heart. It made her feel even worse that she had to keep him at a distance, thinking unkind thoughts about her sister.

"If you only knew, Priscilla, if you only knew." Nick replied with a chuckle, as he picked up his hat and gloves. Thinking that ending on an upbeat note was good, he wished her a good evening, and then left, closing the door behind him. The ride back to the ranch improved his mood, as he recalled the conversation in his mind.

The regret in her voice and eyes had been apparent, when she'd turned down his picnic invitation. Nick figured that she probably had a beau back in San Francisco, which is why she had declined. Priscilla was young, Nick knew, and he bet the beau was too. He wasn't that worried about the other man though, because she would be living in Stockton for a year, and a lot could happen during that time. The relationship was not serious Nick was sure, or Priscilla would not have taken the job. By the time he arrived back at the ranch he was whistling a jig.

That evening, Heath Barkley finished his bath, and walked back to his bedroom, looking forward to a little bit of reading before bed. He had taken Sarah and her mother back into town, after the midday Sunday dinner. Penny had excused herself, tactfully, to go take a nap, so the couple could have some time alone.

They spent the afternoon looking at furniture catalogs, with the house plan in front of them. There were some pieces stored back in St. Louis, from when Penny had sold their house, which Heath and Sarah were going to use. He knew that Sarah had taken the sale of the house very hard, even as she'd understood why her mother was doing what she was. It made Heath happy to give her a house, for her to make her own, and a home for them.

Settling into bed he reached for the book he'd been trying to read for the last two months. Audra had given him the book 'Alice In Wonderland' for his birthday, before she left for the east coast. She had told him that it was like reading about a dream, but Heath had not been able to get past the second chapter. He was tempted to just read the last chapter, before Audra returned in the fall, in case she asked him about it.

Giving up, he put the book back on the table by his bed, and finally faced what he'd been thinking about since that morning. Heath could see Priscilla tossing her head, which had at the time reminded him of someone else. When he had met Priscilla, all those weeks ago, he had been struck by the last name, and the reference it carried for him – and Nick.

A vise tightened around his heart when he pictured Hester laughing at the lumber camp dance. She had tossed her head, when she was having fun, just like Priscilla did, Heath remembered. He was now sure that the women were related somehow, and he wondered if Priscilla had come here because of the past connection.

It had taken several months for him and Nick to finally get back to a close relationship, after the camping trip. The issue had been Nick feeling guilty for bringing Hester along, and what he'd ended up doing to Heath because of her. Heath had done his best to reassure Nick, but understood what his brother was going through. He hoped that Priscilla was not here to revisit the past, because Nick didn't need that right now.

Heath thought about the talk he and Nick had had, on the last night of the trail ride. He knew that Nick, for all of his outward bravado was at a low point emotionally. For a moment he debated talking to Priscilla, but then decided to hold off. His impression, from meeting her and watching her talk with Sarah, was that Priscilla was a kind person. Heath couldn't have justified that feeling to anyone, but knew what his gut was telling him.

Priscilla was new in town, and he didn't believe in holding people's relatives against them – every family had a bad apple or two. He would bide his time, and see what Sarah told him, since she and Priscilla seemed to be friendly. Heath rolled over on his side and hoped that his first impression of the new teacher was right. If he was wrong, and Nick became involved with Priscilla, Heath could see a big mess forming.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter Seven**_

It would be three weeks tomorrow since he'd talk to Priscilla at the school house, _not that he was counting_ Nick muttered to himself, as he looked at the wire that was sagging, between the two fence posts. The plan he had, to bide his time with her, had seemed simple and easy when he'd come up with it. Nick knew that he wouldn't see her during the week once school started, so he would only have Sundays, at church, to see her.

The mayor and town council had hosted a potluck picnic in the town park, to welcome the new teacher, two weeks ago. Nick had been excited to have an extra opportunity to see Priscilla, and had been more than willing to do his duty to the school board. The afternoon had not turned out like he'd planned, mostly because of Rufus, and some because of his mother.

Nick recalled that afternoon now, as he carefully undid the tacks holding wire, to pull it taut, trying not to take his frustration out on the twisted metal. It had galled him to see Rufus Morton hover around Priscilla with a propriety air, as he introduced her to people. She had stood by his side quite happily, as Rufus took credit for hiring her, when he wasn't talking about her grandfather, the English minister. Nick had been further annoyed that his mother just let it happen, not even standing next to Rufus and Priscilla.

Victoria had greeted Priscilla friendly enough, but then had gone off to talk to some acquaintances, letting Rufus run the show. Nick had tried to get close to her, but people kept on sidetracking him, to talk. When Priscilla wasn't with Rufus, she was talking to the families who had children, and even ate with the Hennesseys, who had five children in school. It hadn't helped that when Rufus was holding court with Priscilla, Zack and JR were right by their father's side. Nick saw Rufus Morton's face in his mind and took pleasure in tugging the wire extra hard.

"Boy howdy, Nick if you pull any harder, you're going to take the next post out of the ground." Heath came up on Charger, and took in the tension of the metal, and the grimace on his brother's face. He wondered what had the man so worked up, but knew it wouldn't take long to find out. One thing about Nick, you always knew exactly what he was feeling, and what the cause was.

"I just got busy thinking about Rufus at the picnic two weeks ago." Nick squinted up at his brother, realizing the truth in what he had observed. He loosened the wire a smidge, before he went to work on tacking it back to the post. Heath for his part cursed silently, wishing he'd not made the comment about Rufus and Priscilla at Sunday dinner. His mother had been right; it really hadn't been funny or appropriate. In fact all it had done was given Nick more to get worked up over, which wasn't good for anyone.

"Or do you mean Priscilla? Nick, I was only trying to get your goat when I made that comment." Heath strove to pour oil on troubled waters. In truth he had thought that Rufus had acted like the school teacher was his daughter; or daughter in law – but Heath wasn't going to add that fuel to Nick's fire.

"Didn't you see how he acted with her? I've never seen the man so happy! Priscilla went right along with it, and don't get me started on Zack and JR." Nick spat, as he finished tacking the wire. He looked up at Heath, and saw that he had his brother's attention. "Mother was no help at all either! She went off and let Rufus crow the whole afternoon." Seething he put his gloved hands on his hips, as he stomped his booted and spurred foot. Coco, hearing the familiar jingle looked up for a minute, and then saw that his rider was just worked up – yet again – and went back to grazing.

"Nick, I think you are reading way too much into that afternoon. Look, Rufus is president of the school board, and he takes the position very seriously." Heath sighed heavily, as he watched his brother walk over towards him. The fact that Rufus took everything with a high minded outlook was apparent, which Heath had seen the first time he'd met the man.

"I am sure that Priscilla was just going along with her boss. She spent most of the afternoon with the children and their parents." He wanted to laugh at Nick's very apparent jealousy, as it was clear the man was more than fond of the pretty teacher. Heath wasn't sure whether he should be glad or worried about that fact, based on who she was.

"You think so?" Nick wanted reassurance and regarded his brother with hopeful eyes. He knew that Sarah and Priscilla had become friends, spending time together. The idea of pumping his brother for information, third hand, was abhorrent to him. Nick had always been the ladies man, the one who knew women, but lately he pondered if he had lost his touch.

"Honestly, she came to Stockton to teach school Nick! Of course she is going to spend her time with the children, parents, and the president of the school board, who did hire her." Heath knew that one of the drawbacks to Nick being infatuated was that his commonsense stopped working. "Mother was busy with her old friend Eleanor Wells, who had come back to town for the birth of her grandchild. She saw that Rufus had everything under control, and was introducing Priscilla to the townspeople." He looked down at his very unhappy brother, and decided a change of topic was needed.

"Since you have the fence fixed, why don't you come with me over to my house? The foundation has been laid, and some of the framing done, according to Jonas." Heath named the master carpenter who was overseeing the construction. As much as he would have liked to have done everything, Heath knew it wasn't possible, but Jonas was to be trusted. "By the way, Sarah and I liked the dark brown colored brick sample you brought back from the city." He saw Nick smile happily, and knew that the distraction had worked.

Nick went over to Coco, and after checking the cinch, swung up into the saddle. He felt a great deal more cheerful, having heard what Heath was saying. It made sense that Priscilla was thinking of her job; he had seen that the day at the schoolhouse, in talking to her, how much she loved teaching. As he rode along side Heath, he pictured Priscilla at the picnic with the children. She had been patient with them, even as one little boy had spilled his food on the skirt of her pretty flowered dress.

Priscilla had laughed before she'd hugged the boy, who had looked terror stricken at what he'd done. Nick couldn't think of another young woman, all elaborately done up, who would have reacted with such good grace. He had liked how easily she handled the mess, even as she laughed, making it clear that she was a happy person. The thought of having her laughing in his arms, had him thinking about how Priscilla had hugged him at the train station, he smiled with anticipation.

"So Jonas wants to." Heath's voice, talking about lumber, broke into the pleasant dream he'd been having. Taking a deep breath, he forced his mind back to the present, instead of some make-believe dream; sadly it was all he had right now.

They came over the ridge, and rode down into a small clearing shaded on the west side by trees. The framework of the house was nestled against the rise of the ridge. The outlying circle of trees had been left, to provide shade and a windbreak. The men swept their gazes over the property, and then noticed a buggy with a grey horse off to the side.

"I didn't know Sarah was going to be here." Heath announced, recognizing the buggy as the one the Roses used for deliveries. His face took on a happy look, as they rode closer to the property. When they were close to the framed house, they saw that Sarah had someone with her.

"Damn, Priscilla is with her." Nick's voice sounded upset, as he realized who the other person with Sarah was. Heath gave him an odd look, and asked him what the matter was; he would have thought Nick would be glad to see the school teacher.

"Look at me, Heath! I'm in my work clothes, and I've been out mending fences all morning. What is Priscilla going to think of me?" He snapped, glad at least he'd not had to do the sweaty work of pounding posts into the ground. However, he was dusty and undoubtedly smelled like his horse. His brother sighed audibly, as he shook his head.

"Nick, you spend a great deal more time looking like you do now, than all gussied up on the dance floor." Heath commented. "Look at this way, if she is going to be bothered by you in your work clothes, wouldn't you rather know sooner, than later? I thought you wanted to be done with superficial ladies." In fact he was very interested to see what Priscilla would make of Nick, in his ranching clothes.

The last time they'd met, the pretty teacher had dealt with his self satisfied brother so easily, as to make it look like a walk in the park. Heath knew too well how lonely his brother really was, but it would take woman with a backbone of steel, wrapped up in satin, lace, and bows to deal with the man. He couldn't decide if he was hopeful, or worried, that Priscilla could be that woman.

"I'm going to go say hello to Sarah and Priscilla." Heath stated, looking at his brother who had a shocked look on his face. He thought it rather funny that Nick Barkley, the most eligible bachelor in California, was almost scared. "Up to you if come along." He nudged Charger along, wanting to go see his future wife, and look at their soon to be house.

Nick followed Heath, trying to control his fear of facing Priscilla, after having worked hard all morning. He heard what his brother was trying to tell him, and liked what Heath was doing for him. Nick in fact was scared to death at what Priscilla's reaction was going to be. He liked her so much more than any woman he'd ever known, and if she turned up her nose at him in his work clothes, he didn't know what he would do.

"Heath! Nick! How great to see you!" Sarah, looking very pretty in a blue and white checked skirt and blue cotton blouse, came over to greet the men. "I thought that you were going to be working on the north side?" In fact she was perplexed at why they were where they were. She looked over at Priscilla, who was sitting under the shade of an oak tree.

"Well we had a cattle break." Heath went on to explain the matter, as Nick sat on Coco trying not to notice Priscilla sitting under the tree.

"I'm happy that I get to see you." Sarah replied, looking over at her friend, who was all of a sudden very interested in her sketch book. "Priscilla is helping me with the gardens! She is just amazing, knowing what plants go where, and she is very talented at drawing." In truth Sarah had been glad to find out that her new friend was familiar with those matters. Sarah knew that Heath expected at least a few flower beds, and a vegetable garden, but she had not grown up with that.

Heath dismounted from Charger, and went to hug Sarah tightly, hiding a private smile. He knew that she was a city girl, but had understood that she wanted to do as much as possible by herself. It had not concerned him, because they had the rest of their lives together to figure everything out. At the end of the day, he was marrying his best friend, and he could afford to hire a gardener if needed. The fact that Priscilla was coming to the rescue made him wonder if God was up in heaven pulling some strings.

Nick moved Coco closer to the tree that Priscilla was sitting under, admiring how pink, white, and gold she looked. He couldn't believe that the girl of his dreams was here, right in front of him, and he found himself not knowing what to say. The fact that she supposedly knew about gardens was intriguing to him, and he found himself wanting to talk to her for that reason alone.

"So you are doing lots of flowers?" Nick inquired, trying to sound witty, and then wanted to kick himself for the comment. He had wanted to sound nonchalant, and instead was coming off as waspish. He had to wonder how this woman could keep him so off balance. Honestly, his reputation as a ladies' man was in serious jeopardy, based on how he was handling Priscilla.

Priscilla looked up at Nick, on his tall horse, admiring the strength of the man, who ran the land holdings. She took in his satisfaction at being on his steed, as his eyes patrolled the outlying areas of the ranch. It thrilled her at how strong and secure he was; what he had he would hold tight, she saw. The man was lord of his domain, and everyone who met him would know that fact right away. It made her wonder at how her sister ever thought she would get the better of this man. Priscilla then admitted that Hester was very good at what she did, which caused her to inwardly sigh.

"Well yes, flowers, but also an arbor, and a kitchen garden." Priscilla stiffened her spine, thinking of her grandparents. Her father had been English and a passionate gardener, while her Scottish grandmother had loved roses and lavender. No one did gardening better than in England, and Grandpa Henry had been raised on an estate, which had been laid out by Capability Brown. She told Nick all of that, and saw that he was listening to her.

Nick noticed how she was suddenly sitting up a great deal straighter and smiled, liking how she wasn't going to fawn over him. He remembered how she'd already gotten the best of him once before, and even now, knowing who he was, she still wasn't kowtowing to him. The idea of the challenge made him very excited, and he wanted to get to know her even more.

"Would you show me your sketches?" Nick had dismounted from Coco, not wanting to tower over Priscilla. He thought about their last time together, and smiled his infectious grin. "Unless of course my talent for speaking without thinking has been the undoing of me?" He put his gloved hands out, palms upward, towards her. The fact that he'd done this once before wasn't lost on him, and it came to him that she already held his heart in her hands, even if she didn't know it.

"Why don't you come sit with me, if you are interested?" She replied, trying to keep her voice calm, as she tilted her head. Nick started to walk over to her, noticing her pink skirt and white blouse sprigged with pink polka dots. Her honey colored hair was put up, and decorated with pink ribbon, all of which set off her creamy skin and blue eyes. She looked cool and fresh, and he was suddenly reminded of what he had on.

"I've been out working all morning, and am rather dusty." Nick stopped and looked down at his clothes, before he regarded her. Her laughter, clear and like a bell made him happier than he'd been in a while.

"A little dust is nothing, Nick. I spend my days with children, and let me tell you the messes they get into." Priscilla moved slightly, making room for him under the tree, where it was shady. He came over and sat down next to her, and she was quickly aware of his presence. His long legs almost brushed her skirt, as he settled his back against the tree trunk, bringing him very close to her. She caught a whiff of horses, sun, and his scent, which she remembered from when she'd hugged him at the train station.

"These are very good, Priscilla. You are very talented, and I like how you've laid out the front garden." Nick was looking at the sketch and admiring both her talent for drawing, and her choices of flowers. The design was very original, showing a deep knowledge of what plants went well together.

"Thank you Nick. Sarah said that she and Heath didn't want anything too formal, and after seeing the house plans I came up with the idea." Priscilla hoped her voice didn't betray the butterflies that had come to life in her stomach, something that happened every time Nick was close to her. She had to quell the urge to snuggle against him, appalled at the thought. Her plan to keep him at arm's length would fly out the window fast, if she wasn't careful.

"This is the kitchen garden, with vegetables, and herbs too." She showed him a different sketch, and he asked several questions, including what the purple colored bushes were around the edge of the garden.

"That is lavender, which not only has a lovely scent but also a lot of uses around the house. We grew some in Los Angeles, but it was hard, because of the climate and soil." Priscilla told him. "You are lucky in the valley; I think anything would grow here. I actually saw a vineyard, as Sarah and I were driving out." She must have said the right thing, because Nick lit up like a candle.

"Actually, that is my vineyard. You see." He went on to explain about how he'd started it, his hands moving as he talked about the cuttings he'd brought back from France. Nick had liked her comment about the valley, and was impressed that she had noticed the fact. It was apparent she knew something about viticulture too, from her questions.

"Well they seem quite happy." Heath observed to Sarah, as they watched the couple under the tree. He took Sarah's hand, and walked over to examine the framing, to give Nick and Priscilla more time together. Sarah understood what he was doing, and went along with Heath, a concerned expression on her face. He noticed it, and inquired about the cause.

"I don't want Nick to get hurt, Heath. He is really much more sensitive than he lets on." Sarah puckered her brows as she made the remark in a low voice. She had seen that right away about the man, and knew his loud, tough guy bravado was to cover the fact. "Priscilla doesn't want any romantic relationships."

"What do you mean Sarah? What has she said?" Heath was curious, as his suspicion about Priscilla came to his mind.

"I was teasing her about the Morton boys and your brother too, about how they all like her. She told me that she wasn't interested in being courted. Her plan is to fulfill her contract here, and then try to get hired by this school in Los Angeles." Sarah explained, going on. "She had wanted to get hired there right away, but they said she needed more experience. Priscilla also told me that she'd not wanted to come to Stockton, but it was that or Seattle which wouldn't work because of her grandmother." Sarah told Heath about the women, and the story of St. Margaret's.

Heath had a pretty good idea of why Priscilla had not wanted to come to Stockton. He was glad to hear the reason why she had come, and that it wasn't what he'd been worried about. From what Sarah was saying it sounded like Priscilla had at least heard about Hester's involvement with the Barkleys. The crux was what Priscilla knew, and what her relative had told her about the affair. He sighed out loud, which caused Sarah to look at him perplexedly.

"It's too bad, because Nick doesn't need to be hurt again." Heath left it at that, not wanting to say anything else. "Do you have anything to eat, honey? I'm rather hungry." He was pretty sure that she would have brought some food out with her, and figured the distraction would be good. They walked over to the buggy, and she pulled out a basket, which she handed to Heath to carry.

"Are you all hungry?" Sarah and Heath had walked over to the tree, where Nick and Priscilla were engrossed in their conversation. The couple had not heard them come up, and now Nick shot his brother an annoyed glance for interrupting. Heath for his part felt badly, but not for interrupting, rather for his brother. From what he'd seen of her so far, Priscilla could be the best thing that happened to Nick. However, the past could get in the way of that and bite the man badly, yet again.

"These are delicious, what are they?" Nick asked several minutes later, as he took another of the thick, triangle shaped cookie. It was not quite a cookie though, more like a biscuit, but it was firmer and sweet. Sarah had opened the basket, and laid out the food, along with a jar of lemonade. Heath nodded his head, as Nick asked his question.

"They are scones, which are very popular in England. These have lemon in them, but you can do them plain too. We used to have them at tea, with strawberry jam and Devonshire cream." Priscilla answered, and then told them about the cream.

"Did you make these?" Nick inquired, as he took his fourth one. The thought that someone as pretty and delicate as Priscilla baked too was hard to believe.

"Yes, I did. The scones, along with shortbread and Yorkshire pudding are pretty much my only culinary accomplishments." Priscilla giggled, and Sarah asked her why. "My grandmother always had help in the kitchen, but they were all Mexican. Don't get me wrong, their cooking was good, but there were certain things – English things – that my grandfather liked that the cook could never get right. So my grandmother would cook those, and she showed me how to make them."

"Well if you'll teach me how to make these, I can show you how to cook some other stuff." Sarah offered, seeing Heath take his fifth, or maybe sixth, scone. The girls chatted cooking for a bit, while the boys finished eating. Nick hated to leave, but knew the amount of work still waiting for him and Heath. He felt too that he had made good progress with Priscilla, and didn't want to overstay his welcome. They bid the ladies good bye, and rode away, with Nick being happy for the rest of the day.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter Eight**_

Nick finished his meeting with Jarrod, and now walked over the saloon favored by the ranchers. He had asked Jarrod to join him, but his brother already had other plans for the evening. Hearing that, Nick decided that he would have a drink before heading back to the ranch, for dinner. The October air was cool, now that the sun had gone down he noted, as he crossed the street.

He was in a good mood because of how things were going with Priscilla. The Saturday that he'd spent time with her, at Heath's house, was almost a month ago. A week after that his mother had invited her to dinner, to welcome her to the valley. In Nick's private opinion Victoria should have set something up sooner, just to stay even with Rufus Morton. When he had made that observation to Heath, his brother had pointed out that their mother didn't have the need that Nick had, to compete with the Mortons, which caused Nick to swear.

The dinner, which was also attended by Sarah and her mother, had gone well, with Priscilla being delightful. Nick could tell that his mother liked her a lot, and he noticed too how well she got along with everyone else. She had talked to Jarrod about a court case that was going on in Los Angeles that he was following. Since Priscilla had lived in the area, she was able to explain to Jarrod certain points that he had wondered about.

He had seen her again when she'd come out to tour the vineyard at his invitation. Nick had asked the night of the dinner, being careful to invite Sarah and her mother along too. Since they had not seen the area before, or toured the blending house it didn't look like he was singling Priscilla out. The tour had gone well, and Nick had enjoyed her questions and knowledgeable comments.

Yes, he mused to himself, as he entered the saloon, things were progressing nicely with Priscilla. It was still too slow for his taste, but reminded himself of his mother's comments from when he was a little boy, about having patience. Entering the saloon, he walked up to the bar, and after greeting Harry ordered a whiskey. Nick took a sip, and then looked around the dim, smoky room to see who was there. It surprised him to see Zack Morton, by himself, at the end of the bar, so he walked over to say hello.

"Zack, where's JR?" Nick inquired, as he indicated the stool next to Zack. It was very rare to see the brothers apart, so Nick wondered what had prompted it to happen.

"Bible study." Zack replied, and if not for the seriousness of the tone, Nick would have thought he was joking. It was taking everything for Nick not to laugh, and Zack noticed his reaction and sighed.

"Go ahead, laugh Barkley! It is true though. Would you like to sit?" Zack asked, wanting some company, since his brother was off being a damn fool. He said as much to Nick, who wanted to know what was prompting this need for religion. JR was just like him and Zack, liking to play poker, drink, smoke, and swear when riled.

"The new school teacher is the cause, of course. JR found out from my Pa that Priscilla goes to Reverend Peterson's bible study group for young people, so he decided to go as a way to get in good with her." Zack explained, shaking his head at the folly of it; after all he was going to marry Priscilla he had decided.

"Now Zack, I thought you were sweet on her too, so why aren't you also at the bible study?" Nick was puzzling it out in his mind, and added just to be annoying. "I bet your father would be pleased that you were reading the Good Book." Considering how religious Rufus was, he was surprised that the boys had not been involved with the group before.

The Reverend had been concerned, a year ago, that other than the occasional church dance there was nowhere for young people of faith to spend time together. He had come up with a bible study as way to bring everyone together. Everyone took turns bringing food, while the Reverend and his wife provided lemonade. There would be a discussion on whatever chapter was being read, and then the members would eat and talk. In Nick's opinion no real man would ever show up for that, but he was careful not to say that in public.

"Barkley, I am sweet on her, and just so you know she will end up choosing me." Zack declared feverently, smirking with pleasure at the grimace that came upon Nick's face. "However, you know perfectly well that you don't want to go pretend to be something you're not, to get a woman. You've seen those guys who do that, going all upright and finding religion, to get some gal. They get married, and then the first time he comes home late from the saloon, with alcohol on his breath, there's hell to pay. All because he led her to believe that he was something he wasn't."

Nick thought about Zack's words, ignoring the taunt about Priscilla choosing him, and could see the wisdom in them. There were several men in the Cattleman's Association, he knew, that ended up sleeping in the spare bedroom when they came home from the meetings, which were just an excuse for poker and drinking. He couldn't imagine being greeted like that, all because of an occasional indulgence.

Zack was right, Nick saw, if you were honest from the beginning, a wife shouldn't complain about it later. It also came to him that in a roundabout way he was telling Nick the same thing that Heath had, the day at his house. Heath had pointed out that Nick spent his days as a rancher, working, and Priscilla should see that upfront. Nick thought it rather interesting that Heath and Zack seemed to have figured out the same thing, while he had missed it completely. Bringing his mind back to the present conversation, he regarded his rival.

"So didn't you tell JR that? And if she is going to choose you, which I doubt, why did he go to the bible study?" Nick took two generous swallows of his whiskey, giving Zack an evil grin as he made his remark. The other man took the bait, making Nick feel pleased with himself; it didn't last though.

"She has had dinner with us several times, and even came out on a Saturday to see our barn, which I personally showed her." Zack replied in satisfied tones. "Priscilla used to ride and misses not having a horse, so I told her I would take her riding anytime she wanted. Pa being president of the school board is turning out to be quite the blessing." He added as an afterthought, hoping he was rubbing salt into a wound.

For his part Nick felt a pit in his stomach, as he listened to what Zack was telling him. Nick couldn't believe that she would go by herself to see the barn, when he'd been forced to have Sarah and her mother come along to see the vineyard. All of the hopefulness he'd felt earlier, about his relationship with Priscilla was sinking faster than a ship with a hole in its hull.

"Hey Barkley, you know I could use some more of your money to buy livestock. There is this warm blood stallion I want to purchase, but he has to come from Germany, which is _very expensive_." Zack's voice had a taunting edge to it, which along with his smirk was grating on Nick's nerves. He finished his drink in several successive swallows, and indicated to Harry that he wanted another.

The bar keep, an older man with thinning hair brought the bottle down, while wondering if a fight was in the offering. Harry looked at the large mirror over the bar, and thinking about what it had cost to replace it the last time a fight had happened, hoped things would stay quiet.

"Now what kind of bet did you have in mind?" Nick retorted quickly, still sore about the $5,000 he'd had to pay Zack and JR last year. Jarrod's _I told you so_, as Nick had withdrawn the cash from his account, had rung in his ears for almost a month afterwards. He felt his blood start to get hot, and took a large swig from his now full glass. Zack smiled with pure pleasure, seeing he had Nick exactly where he wanted him. Really, he thought to himself, the man just never learns.

"I have $1,000 that says you will be dancing at my wedding next summer!" Zack declared, sitting up very straight to look Nick right in the eye. Nick opened his mouth, all set to agree to the bet, when Priscilla's face came into his mind. He saw her clear blue summer sky eyes, and thought about how pretty, and pure she was. Suddenly he felt it was wrong to be talking about her in the midst of the dim, smoky saloon.

"Miss Converse is a lady, and it would not be gentlemanly to bet on her affections." Nick stood up and taking his hat, decided to head for home, wanting out of the bar. Harry had been standing just off the side, ready to break up any fight that might occur. When he heard Nick's statement, delivered in stiff tones, he couldn't help but laugh. Nick was anything but a choir boy, as Harry knew all too well, but right now he sounded like one. The barkeep then looked over at Zack, with his superior attitude and smirk.

"Well you might be too much of a gentleman, Nick, but no one else is." Harry announced, deciding to have some fun with the two men who were obviously rivals for the new teacher's affection. While Zack had been loud about his interest, Nick hadn't directly said anything, but his reaction to the bet spoke volumes. When Harry saw he had the men's attention he smiled, showing his gold tooth.

"Samson, over at the Cattlemen's?" He began, mentioning the senior bartender at the main hotel. "Samson is already making book on who your school teacher is going to marry. Just so you know, both of you are on the list, along with JR, Jarrod, and every other bachelor in town." Harry chuckled as he watched the men take in what he'd told them. He was saving the best for last, looking forward to the reaction he was sure to get.

"You say that Samson is making book? What are my odds?" Zack's eyes gleamed at the idea of some sport; sure that he was the favorite. Harry smiled with anticipation, as he made his next statement. Nick saw the gleam in the man's eyes and wondered what he had up his sleeve.

"Now Zack, I don't know about your odds, but my understanding is that your Pa's odds are very good." Harry informed them, in a deceptively bland voice. He took pleasure in seeing Zack snort so badly that the whiskey he'd just taken a sip of came out his nose. Nick's reaction interested him too, in seeing how pale the man went, while his eyes blazed with green fire.

"My Pa? Why would he be included?" Zack was gasping for air, as he tried comprehending what Harry was saying. Why Pa was – Pa – the man was; ugh. The whole thought was beyond imaginable, and he stared at the barkeep with incredulity. Nick for his part was remembering Heath's comment at Sunday dinner all those weeks ago; his brother was good at seeing things no one else did.

"All the attention he's paid to the new teacher has been noticed, after all. The man has been president of the school board for years, but this is the first time he's taken so much interest in the school teacher. I heard that he took her to lunch last week, at the Chart House." Harry named the upscale restaurant on the waterfront that overlooked the river.

"He took her to lunch? He didn't tell JR and me about it! Why would he do that? He's old!" Zack replied in an accusatory tone, as he finished his drink and helped himself to another one.

"Zack, your father is a man in the prime of his life." Harry chided the no longer smirking young man. "Why wouldn't he want to enjoy the company of a pretty young woman? You might just be getting a stepmom when all is said and done." He took pleasure in delivering the jab, having had to listen to Zack, and his brother's, superior tones once too often.

Nick for his part, in any other circumstances, would have taken pleasure in Zack's dismay. The young man gobbled like a turkey for a minute, and then jumped up from his barstool, while announcing he needed to go find JR. However, because the cause of it all was Priscilla; he was just even more dismayed at how things were going. If Rufus was taking her out to private lunches at expensive restaurants, Nick pondered, the man was not just interested in her teaching ability.

"So Nick, do you want another drink? You look like you could use one, and I'll make it on the house." Harry turned his attention to the now silent Nick; something that Harry knew didn't happen that often. He was sure that while Nick was not reacting like Zack had, the middle Barkley was equally upset at the news about Rufus and the teacher. Harry rather thought it was good for these young bucks to realize that an older man could meet them head on.

"No Harry, I'm done and will head home." Nick answered abruptly, wanting to get away from the man who had delivered the news that was breaking Nick's heart. He walked out through the swinging doors, and was all set to head for the livery, to pick up Coco. It came to him that he'd left his folio in Jarrod's office, which had several documents he needed to read and deal with.

In a fog he walked over to Jarrod's office, and using the key he had, went in, and retrieved his leather folio. Nick's mind was mulling over what Harry had said, about Priscilla and Rufus, and saw how it all made sense. Rufus was in the prime of his life, and very successful with a lot to offer a woman, Nick had no problem seeing.

Priscilla was religious he knew, since she was attending bible study; her grandfather had been a minister after all. Nick was aware that religion was very important to Rufus, and he would be able to talk to Priscilla about the subject. While he was bothered by the age difference in the couple, Nick knew that society would have no problem with it. Older men routinely married much younger wives, especially if they were men of means.

He couldn't picture Priscilla, so warm, fresh, and happy with Rufus, but was honest enough to admit that he was very biased. Nick had met her first, and it was him giving up his seat on the train that had made her being hired possible. His spirits were very low, as he crossed the main street, to cut over to the livery stable. He would take Coco home, bed him down, and then sit in the tack room in the empty barn, with a bottle that he kept stashed in a trunk of extra harnesses.

His route to the livery took him by the church and he noticed groups of people leaving the Reverend's house, which was next to the place of worship. Nick stood against the façade of the building across the street, to watch. The moon, almost full; a waxing moon he remembered, was providing enough light to make out the people. It didn't take him long to see find Priscilla, walking with Mrs. Mitchell, a widow who worked at the millenary shop.

The two women broke off from the others, and headed across the street, in the direction of Mrs. McDonald's boarding house. Nick decided to take his chances, and took a short cut, so he was waiting when the two ladies came down the street. He walked towards them, from the opposite direction, which was coincidentally one street over from Jarrod's office. As he came up to the boarding, he looked up, as in surprise.

"Mrs. Mitchell, Miss Converse, good evening." He raised his gloved hand to the brim of his hat, tipping it in their favor. He knew Bea Mitchell all too well, because his sister kept her busy. "I need to warn you, Mrs. Mitchell, Audra will be home in several weeks, and she has a number of new dresses that she needs hats for." Nick knew it was correct for him to address the oldest lady first, and he was sure it couldn't hurt to show Priscilla his family's relationship with the milliner.

"Nick, good to see you." Bea came over and gave the man a hug, having known him since he was ten years old. "Well your sister being back will be good news, since she will know all the new trends." Bea paused here, and noticed how the other two were working very hard at not noticing each other. She gave the young woman a fond smile, liking how kind Priscilla was, and thinking that Nick needed that badly in his life.

"I'm going to go in, but I think you young people should sit out here and enjoy the fresh air and the bright moon." Bea suggested, remembering her last conversation with Victoria; her friend had been concerned at how at sea her middle son seemed to be. Noticing how his eyes brightened at her suggestion, Bea felt good about what she'd done.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter Nine**_

"Would you like to sit and watch the moon? It is a waxing moon." Nick offered, almost holding his breath as he indicated the porch swing. He knew all about the moon phases because he was a landsman; certain crops did better planted at different phases of the moon. It pleased him to see Priscilla glance up at him, almost shyly, as she pulled her fluffy white shawl around her, against the chilling air. As he looked closer at her, he noticed her hair, which was worn half up in the front, but loose in the back. Nick saw how thick the strands were, with some butter colored ones among the honey tones.

He had a sudden urge to take his gloves off and run his hands through her hair. Of course that would have led his hands going other places, which then; he stopped himself because she was an honorable lady. That had been brought home to him quite clearly, earlier in the saloon with Zack. Nick was bothered now that JR had been in the bible study where Priscilla had her hair loose; even worse he wondered if she'd worn it that way when Rufus had taken to lunch.

"Thank you I would enjoy watching the moon. It is amazing how much of our lives it affects." Priscilla was trying not to be overwhelmed by how masculine Nick looked, standing in front of her. His dark shirt, leather vest, and gun belt worn low over his lean hips that offset his broad chest, was almost a full frontal assault to her femininity. The thought that it had not been enough for her sister, to have this specimen of manhood to want give her everything was boggling Priscilla's mind.

Nick was pleased at how things had worked out, as he indicated the porch swing, taking off his hat as he did so. Once Priscilla had sat down, he came over and sat, being careful to leave some distance between them. He didn't want to offend her, and there was the matter that the porch was not that private.

"I'm sure you as a gardener know about planting during a new moon, right?" Nick wanted to keep the conversation light, but saw that he'd picked a good topic. They chatted for several minutes about planting, and the tides of the river being controlled by the moon too.

"Nick, are you in town for business?" Priscilla asked, having noticed the leather folio he set down under his hat. She was happier than she wanted to admit, at the chance to see him again. He haunted her thoughts, and Priscilla enjoyed replaying the conversations that they'd had in her mind. It was folly, and she wished she could control her thoughts and feelings about the man.

"Oh, I came in earlier, and met with Jarrod about some contracts. I then went over the saloon, to get something to drink and catch up on what is going on." Nick put it out there, wanting to see her reaction. In truth, it was why he would stop by the saloon when he was town, because it was the hub for any news about the other ranches.

"Did you hear anything good? The only news I ever hear is from the kids, who have a different perspective." She replied with a laugh, and Nick had to ask what she meant. "We teachers have a saying we tell parents when we first meet them. It's rather along the lines of _if you promise to believe only half of what goes on at school, I'll promise to only believe half of what goes on at home._ It ties into little pitchers having big ears." Priscilla's eyes danced with merriment, and Nick found himself laughing too.

"Actually it was rather quiet, but I did run into Zack Morton." Nick noticed that she'd not seem put off by the saloon reference, and wanted to ask about that. However, Zack's – and Harry's comments were fresh in his mind. He wanted to see what her reaction was to his mention of Zack.

"Did he get some upsetting news?" Priscilla shifted her body slightly so she was facing Nick, wishing that she could just snuggle against him. She was really bothered at that feeling she had, every time she was around the man, that all she could think of was being next to him. "He interrupted the Bible Study, and almost dragged JR out, with no explanation."

"Really? I can't think why?" Nick had never worked harder at having a poker face, knowing exactly what Zack had been upset about. "We had a drink, and he told me about some warm blood horse he wants to buy, from Germany." He added with no hesitation, since Zack had told him about the horse.

"There is already some nice horseflesh at the Morton's barn, I have to say. I was out there last weekend with the Richens." Priscilla told him, making Nick happier than it should have, as he listened to her. He should have known better than to trust anything Zack told him. Nick asked her why they were all out there, and he heard that the deacon's son needed a larger horse, and the family had invited her to go along with them.

"You know the Barkley ranch also has nice horses, much better in my opinion than the Morton's." Nick stated, giving her an infectious grin. The story about Zack had been proven false, and he remembered now that Harry had said that he'd only heard about the lunch. That didn't it that it had actually happened, he told himself.

"Yes, I've heard that." She smiled back at him, hearing the pride in his voice. "So anything other interesting news from the saloon, besides Zack and the German horse?" Priscilla inquired, wanting to know what was going on.

"I'm not sure I should be telling you about the saloon talk, Priscilla. It is probably nowhere near as uplifting as your bible study was." Nick had seen that she was genuinely interested, which surprised him slightly. Most ladies turned up their noses at what went on in the saloon, taverns, et al, not understanding how much vital information could be gleamed. It made him look at Priscilla with new respect and interest that she seemed to understand that.

"Grandpa Henry always maintained that if Jesus was alive today, he would at the saloon or tavern, and not a bible study." She retorted with a laugh, which Nick joined in.

"Would that be your minister grandfather? He sounds like a good man." Nick was intrigued at a minister making a statement like that, and wondered if it was because the man was English. He could remember visiting a very grand English estate, which belonged to a nobleman who was a friend of his father's. The Sunday service was not until noon, because the Vicar – what the minister was called – didn't want to miss the fox hunt.

"He was great, and I think you two would've hit it off very well. Even though Grandpa Henry was a minister, he still liked well aged scotch, a good cigar, and a sporting game of cards." She explained, and Nick nodded his head; the man did sound like someone he would have enjoyed spending time with.

"Actually, he was my only grandfather; he and granny Elspeth were my mother's parents. After our parents died in a fever epidemic, they took my sister and me in. My father had been an only child, and his parents had passed away early." Priscilla told the story in a matter of fact voice. "My grandparents were wonderful, and I had a very happy life with them." She added that only her granny was living now, in Los Angeles.

"How did he come to America? And especially Los Angeles?" Nick queried, pondering the odd location. He knew how large the British Empire was, but southern California, even in the mid-19th century, was still holding fast to the traditions of the Viceroyalty of New Spain. Never mind that it had fallen in 1821, it lived on in spirit for many years.

To Nick, the fact that a protestant English clergyman could end up with a church in a place where the Roman faith held sway was fascinating. His family had lots of friends among both the old and new Spanish families, as well as extensive holdings into Mexico. It had always been a fine balancing act, between the Spanish and the Anglos, as well as the past and present governments. It was a simmering hotpot at the best of times, and a powder keg at the worst of them.

"Grandpa Henry was the second son of a second son." Priscilla paused to note Nick's puzzled look. "In England, all the money, land, and power go to the eldest son. He doles it out as he sees fit, to the family. My great-great uncle was the second son to the then heir to the estate, but he spent most of his life in the diplomatic service." She went on to talk about how he had wanted to go to church, and since her grandfather had just been ordained it had all come together.

"My grandfather had just married, and they thought California was a grand adventure. There was also the fact that Grandpa Henry could have his own church right away." Priscilla beamed as she talked about her grandparents. "In England he would have probably had to wait years to get his own parish, and then he'd still be subject to the local noble. My grandmother's family had been with the East India Company for years, so she was up for any adventure."

Nick was very taken with the mention of the British East India Company, having read many stories – both fiction and nonfiction – about the exploits of those earlier sea explorers. He went on to ask her about India and the Far East, and was pleased that she could tell him a few antidotes.

"You should really talk to Granny Elspeth; she was actually born on a merchantman that her father commanded." Priscilla enthused, and told him something about the ships with their luxurious living arrangements. They would be at sea for over a year, and the Captain – who was also a part-owner – would outfit his quarters like a house.

"I've always liked the idea of the sea, Priscilla." Nick was enjoying how easy it was to talk to her, and felt comfortable as he shared his private emotions. "When I was sixteen I actually spent several months on a whaling ship, around the Hawaiian Islands. The Captain was a friend of my family's, and he'd put in at San Francisco. I had always enjoyed spending time down on the river, and my father I see now sensed that I wanted to explore that." He stopped, as he remembered the talk he'd had with his father, before he left.

"It says a whole lot for him that he was willing to let you go off, Nick. So many fathers never let their sons have any freedom." Priscilla saw how emotional the memory was for him, and reached over to clasp his hands. Her grandfather had dealt with several father and sons that had struggled with this exact issue.

"Actually when it all happened, Priscilla, things weren't exactly happy in our family. Jarrod had announced that he wanted to be a lawyer, and not a rancher." Nick paused, as he remembered the angry scenes that had played out between his older brother and their father. "You can probably imagine how guilty I felt, about being interested in the sea." He sighed, thinking about their father at the dock sending him off.

"So what happened? And how were the Hawaiian Islands? I've read about them, and how anything grows there?" Priscilla squeezed his hand, before her curiosity got the better of her. "I want to hear what it was like in the islands, Nick? Did you put in at just one? Or others? And what about the crops? Oh, and the rigging on the ship?" She had always enjoyed her grandmother's stories, and wanted to hear his tales.

Nick wanted to reach over and hug Priscilla, as he took in her enthusiasm for his adventures. She knew all the correct terms for a ship, and was curious about the bigger world. This was a girl that he could tell his dreams to, and she would not only understand but embrace them too. He loved his land, but he also liked new adventures, and experiencing different things. The food, people, and colors had always drawn him outwards, even as he liked the anchor he had of his land.

The next half hour was spent with Nick talking about his time on the ship, and the port of Honolulu along with the island of Maui. Priscilla giggled when he told her about the tattooed warriors, and the pig roasts. Nick even mentioned the island girls who wore only grass skirts and coconuts covering their chest. Her reply of _I don't think that sounds too comfortable_ had made him laugh, as he saw what she was saying.

"After all that though you came home, right Nick?" She observed, suddenly being aware that she was still holding his hand. It came to her that she had spent more time than was seemly sitting in the moonlight with the man she had vowed to keep at arm's length.

"Yes Priscilla I did. I love being a rancher – honestly I've never wanted to do anything else. Having said that, I do enjoy seeing the world and it is nice to talk to someone about that." Nick squeezed her hand. "I feel very blessed that my father let me go look at the bigger picture, even as he was struggling with Jarrod. Your comment about the oldest son getting everything; well my father would have understood that." He knew that his father had been hurt to give up his dream of passing the ranch to the oldest son. It was part of the reason why Nick had worked so hard to fill those shoes.

"Grandpa Henry said that everything happens for a reason, and the Lord has a purpose for all us. Our path is to hear what he is telling us, and how we can serve and honor him by doing it." She commented as she went on. "Trust me, when he graduated from Oxford, Grandpa Henry had no inkling at all about Los Angeles." Priscilla finished up, and Nick pondered that statement, seeing the wisdom in it. He wished her grandfather was still alive, so he could talk to him about where he was in his life. Somehow he felt that the man would understand and know what to tell him.

Priscilla started to wonder if now would be a good time to bring up Hester; they were talking about families after all. It would be easy to bring her sister in Denver into the conversation, and go from there. She knew that the longer she waited the harder it was going to be, and almost look like she'd kept it hidden on purpose. If the Barkley's had asked her about her last name – she had mentioned that she had a sister after all – it would all have been out in the open by now.

Just as she was ready to speak Sheriff Fred Madden came up to the house, looking for Nick. Priscilla gathered that the deputies had just brought in a wanted outlaw, but one of the men had been hurt. The sheriff wanted Nick to help out at the jail, while the wounded deputy went to the doctor.

"Priscilla, I'm sorry I'm going to have to say good night." Nick told her, inwardly cursing Fred for the interruption. It had been pleasant and calming to sit with her, and share his stories. She had made him feel more at ease than anyone had in a long time he noted. He stood up, reluctantly letting go her of her hand, the fingers which had been entwined with his.

"Of course Nick, I understand." Priscilla stood up too, noticing that the sheriff had walked a little away to give them privacy. It came to her what he was probably thinking about her and Nick, and she felt herself flushing. "Be careful Nick." She gave him a smile and turned to go inside, before he could get any closer to her. He returned the smile and picked up his hat and folio, his heart heavy and hopeful at the same time.

He was sure that he had made lots of progress tonight, with Priscilla, but wished they had not had to stop talking. Nick had felt like she had something she wanted to tell him, and he wondered if it was about the beau in San Francisco. Mulling over that, he followed Fred to the jail, to lend a hand.

In her room Priscilla was getting ready for bed, not sure if she was relieved or sorrowed at not being able to tell Nick about her sister. To Priscilla it had felt so right to sit with Nick, and talk about personal things. She had wanted to lay her head on his shoulder, and let him hold her, but had worked hard to resist the urge.

As she finished her prayers, she added an extra one for guidance in what to do about the situation with Nick. Priscilla was clear though that until he knew who her sister was, and the ramifications, there could be no more private talks. If they were going to have a relationship, she wanted it to start on honest footing. Falling asleep, her last thought was that she needed to stiffen her spine, and keep Nick at arm's length, until he knew about her sister.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's Note: This chapter contains a great deal of very suggestive imagery.**_

_**Chapter Ten**_

While Nick and Priscilla were sitting and talking in the moonlight, Jarrod Barkley was heading down Waterfront Street, so named because the buildings all along it faced the river. He was both curious, and eager for tonight, and had not felt bad about turning down Nick's offer to have dinner. The fact that he was anticipating tonight was a sign of how far he'd come since his Beth's death.

It was almost three years ago that she'd been shot, and he finally felt like he had rejoined the living. The first year, after the rage was gone, Jarrod was left with such sadness that felt like a black cloud around him. It had taken everything he had to get out of bed each day, and go to work. Anything else was too much to even think about. The second year had been better, and by the start of this year he was going out socially again, and not just for business.

There was the fact, that he had finally acknowledged, that he would never be the Jarrod Barkley that he'd been before. On Christmas Day he'd gone to visit Beth's grave, and talk with her about his life. He could almost hear her laughter in the wind, and also her voice telling him it was time for him to move on. She would always have a special place in his heart, but his heart had room for others too.

Having spent over two years mentally sequestered, he was now experiencing life, and all it had to offer a man. That was the cause of his smile, as he tethered his horse in front of the tasteful brick building, the only signage being an elegant brass plate, with a floral border around the house number. The front yard, set back by a low wrought iron fence was well kept, while the building was brightly lit.

The House of Flowers was a place of pleasure for gentlemen, to relax and enjoy female companionship. The girls, named after flowers, were all beautiful, sophisticated, and knew exactly how to make a man feel happy. They were always attired in French styled under garments, the chemises, and pantaloons being made of colored silk with lace and ribbon trim. A man would be served fine food and drink, by very attentive, lovely ladies, all overseen by the proprietor and owner.

Maisy Watters was a woman of middle years, with a lush figure, good skin, green eyes, and flaming red hair. She had been a hostess on various riverboats along the Mississippi, before she came west. By 1878 she had owned the House of Flowers for almost ten years, taking it from a rundown poker club to the high level pleasure house that it now was.

Jarrod had been a patron of the House of Flowers since it had first opened, and it was five years ago that James Parkerton had approached him. James was an elderly lawyer who was getting ready to retire, and shut down his practice. The Barkleys had known the man for many years, with James being a mentor to Jarrod when he first opened up his practice.

While Jarrod had not been surprised when James passed on his clients to him, one of the names had surprised him. The House of Flowers was on the list, with Maisy's name next to it; when Jarrod had asked the elderly lawyer the man had laughed dryly. He had commented to Jarrod _it's a business doing pleasure_, which Jarrod understood the first time he went to the house as Maisy's lawyer.

She would not come to his office, rather excepting him to come to her, in the evening, which he always did. They would discuss whatever issue she was having, before Maisy turned him over to one of her flowers. The rest of the night would pass happily for Jarrod, who never sent Maisy a bill for his services. He felt like he had received more than fair compensation, since the flowers were very skilled.

Now he knocked on the finely carved wood door, and was admitted by an oriental houseman, whose name was Chin Lee. Jarrod knew the man very well, since he was also Maisy's business manager, who took care of anything unsavory. Chin Lee greeted him with a bow, and said that Madame – how he referred to Maisy – wanted him shown upstairs to the blue parlor.

The décor in the front hall was done in red brocade wall paper, heavy red velvet curtains with gold fringe, and lots of crystal chandeliers and sconces on the walls. The rugs on the floor were fine Turkish weaves, giving the whole establishment the feel of a gentleman's club or library. The rooms upstairs were all decorated in different colors, and featured sitting areas, along with generous chaise lounges.

A man was given the choice of staying downstairs, to enjoy female companionship while eating, drinking and playing cards. If he wanted more personal attention, the rooms upstairs could be availed upon. It all worked because, as Maisy said once, not every man found pleasure in the same way.

Jarrod started to walk upstairs when he spied the back of a woman, with loose reddish-gold hair. Her build reminded him Barbara, and for a moment he wondered if she'd been released from prison without his knowledge. The woman must have felt his scrutiny because she turned around to look at him, and he realized it wasn't her at all.

The woman though was very attractive, with large hazel eyes and a creamy complexion. Her chemise and pantaloons were pale green silk trimmed in ecru colored lace, and Jarrod noticed how thin the material was as it clung to her curves.

"My name is Rosemary." The woman said in a sultry voice, as she noticed the well dressed man looking at her. Jarrod inclined his head and introduced himself, kissing her hand as he did so.

"Mr. Barkley, would you like Rosemary to show you upstairs, for your meeting with Madame?" Chin Lee could see that the lawyer was interested, and Jarrod smiled at him as he nodded his head. "Rosemary, please show our guest to the blue parlor." The oriental man waved his hands, and the woman smiled at Jarrod before she turned and started walking up the stairs.

"Are you coming?" Rosemary looked back at him, as she asked. Jarrod chuckled at the double entendre of the comment, as he followed her up the carpeted stairs. The blue parlor was decorated in shades of dark blue, grey, and silver. Rosemary showed Jarrod to the round table of polished mahogany wood, where a plate of sandwiches and cakes was placed.

"Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?" Rosemary indicated the drinks tray in the corner, as she put her other hand on her hip, striking a suggestive pose.

"Some of the scotch please, Rosemary." Jarrod replied, his eyes gleaming with pleasure as he admired her. She walked with a slight sway to her hips, as she went to the corner and poured him a very generous glass of the amber liquid.

"I hope you find this to your satisfaction, sir." She placed the drink in front of him, and then gently sat on his lap. Rosemary adjusted her body so he had a nice view of her breasts, as she turned her head to look at him. Her hands stroked the lapels of his jacket, lightly caressing his chest which was starting to excite him. "Would you like a cigar, sir? I can go get one." All the rooms were stocked with fine liquor and first quality cigars in special air tight humidors, to keep them fresh.

"Please call me Jarrod." He told her, his aquamarine eyes twinkling. "I have my own cigars, Rosemary, and if it won't bother you I would like to smoke." Jarrod knew in fact that it wouldn't, but a gentleman always asked. She nodded her head, causing her reddish-gold hair to move and catch the light from the wall sconces. Reaching inside his jacket he brought out his cigar case, which Rosemary took from him.

"Let me light your cigar for you." Rosemary opened the case, a fine silver one, and withdrew the cigar. Jarrod became mesmerized as her slim, white fingers lightly stroked the cylinder like object. She brought it up to her nose and sniffed appreciatively, before she stroked it again. He felt her shift against his, as she reached over to a tray on the table, where the smoking implements were kept.

Rosemary expertly trimmed the cigar, before she moved against him, to face him again. She brought the cigar up to his lips, letting her fingers linger on his chin for a moment. Striking a match, Rosemary raised it to the tip of the cigar, as Jarrod reached out to steady her hand. By now she was intimately against him, and he took a deep draw on the cigar, to try to quell what he was feeling. It had been a long time since a woman had piqued his attention so fast.

"Jarrod, I see you've met Rosemary." Maisy Watters was standing in the doorway, with a knowing smile on her face. She wasn't surprise that her lawyer had picked the best flower of the bouquet, knowing his taste.

"Maisy, it is a pleasure to see you. Yes, Rosemary and I are getting acquainted." Jarrod inclined his head in her direction, not minding that Rosemary was still on his lap. It did come to him though that he had been summoned here, which meant that Maisy had business to discuss.

"Thank you for taking care of Mr. Barkley, Rosemary." Maisy came into the room, her lush figure apparent in a tight red satin dress that was cut very low. She always wore red; it was her trademark, and none of the flowers was allowed to wear it. "I have some matters to discuss with him privately, but when I'm done you two can get back to getting acquainted." She held up her hand and indicated the door for Rosemary, who left Jarrod's lap a languid fashion, slowly pulling away.

"So Maisy, what can I do for you?" He asked, after Rosemary left the room, closing the door behind her. Jarrod took another deep draw on his cigar, hoping that the business matter would be quick, so he could get back to Rosemary. It came to him that he'd not been to the House of Flowers for almost a year, and the last time he'd not felt quite ready to collect his fee.

"Well first off, I'm glad to see that you are back to your old self Jarrod." Maisy came over and sat down across from him, giving his shoulder a comforting pat. She had been aware of the pain he was still in last year, from his wife's death. "You chose well with Rosemary."

"She is quite something, Maisy." Jarrod answered an eager smile on his face, which she noticed.

"Jarrod, I called you because my past has come back to haunt me, and I need your help." Maisy decided to get down to business, so he could get down to pleasure. There was also the urgency of the matter she needed him to take care of.

"Are you being blackmailed?" He couldn't think of anything else she could be talking about. Jarrod was sure that Maisy had done many things in the past that could cause her trouble.

"No, that would almost be easier." Maisy folded her hands together, and looked at him across the table. If she had to tell her past life to someone, she was glad that it was someone as sympathetic as Jarrod. "I wasn't always what I am now; once I was married with a baby daughter." She stopped and waited for his reaction.

"Is that the past life that you are being haunted with?" Jarrod exhaled a stream of smoke, and then took a sip of his drink. He made it a point to keep his expression smooth, knowing that acting surprised or shocked could make a client close down fast. At the back of his mind was the thought that he'd not expected her to say anything like that.

"I'm from New Orleans originally Jarrod." She started her story and he wasn't surprised to hear that, having heard the faint southern accent. "When I was seventeen my parents married me off to a much older man, who owned a plantation deep in the bayou. It wasn't a love match in the least, and I cried through the wedding. Soon I was crying because when he wasn't beating his slaves, he was beating me."

Maisy went on to tell him that when she became with child he stopped beating her, but made it known that if she had a girl he would kill the baby. She did have a daughter, and her husband did try to kill the baby as he had said. Before that could happen though Maisy killed him with a fireplace poker, and then fled with the baby. The housekeeper, an old slave woman, helped her get away, having taken some money out of the safe the Massa never locked.

"My Aunt was the mother superior of a convent in New Orleans, so I fled there for protection with my little girl." Maisy felt her hands shaking as she remembered the bloody body of her husband, and fleeing with a newborn baby in the dark of the swamp. "She arranged for me to get out of town, to go visit a friend in St. Louis. My daughter was taken in by a foster family who my aunt knew had just lost a child of their own."

Jarrod put his cigar in the ashtray, and stood up, walking over to the drinks tray. He poured her a generous amount of brandy, and brought the glass to her. Maisy took several sips gratefully, before she went on with her story.

"I was going to work as a maid, to help support my daughter. However, I soon found out how much more money I could make working as a hostess on the riverboats." Maisy gave him a _you know the rest of the story_ look. "Obviously I could never be part of my daughter's life, but I saw to it that she was well cared for."

She went on to say that the girl had eventually been told about her mother, but they had never met. The daughter married a soldier in the army, but Maisy continued to send money to help them out. There had been several letters exchanged over the years, and Maisy took comfort in the fact that the girl sounded happy.

The husband had been posted two years ago to a fort in the western Dakota Territory, and his family went along with him. Maisy stated that she'd been worried, because the area had been unstable ever since the massacre of Colonel Custer. It now seemed that her worst fears had come true when she'd been summoned to the Presidio in San Francisco, by an army lawyer.

The Indians had overrun the fort and killed all the white people there, with the exception of one small boy. That boy, ten years old, was her grandson Noah Jones, who she was now guardian of. The boy had been brought to the Presidio, and was staying with a family that had several children. Maisy was dismayed to say the least, but what the lawyer told her next made her realize that she had to take Noah back to Stockton with her.

"They don't know why, but he won't talk. The lawyer thinks the boy was traumatized by what he saw, which is why he doesn't speak." Maisy's voice took on an urgent tone. "Jarrod, this is not the best place for him, but I am all that he has. I think it would be good for him to go to school, and be around other children." She had spent several sleepless nights trying to figure out the best course of action.

"Do you want me to find a boarding school for you to send him to?" He inquired, thinking that would be the most sensible solution. In Jarrod's opinion the House of Flowers was no place for a child.

"No Jarrod, he couldn't handle that right now, with the shape he is in. He feels comfortable here; I've given him his own room, and Sadie, my cook is looking out for him." She finished her drink, and she said next was not what he was expecting. "Jarrod, I want you to enroll him in the school here for the time being. I can't very well go waltzing down to the school house, but you as my lawyer can."

"Maisy, I understand your feelings, and am willing to trust your opinion of the boy." Jarrod could see her reasoning, and it did make sense in a convoluted way. "Yes, as your lawyer I can certainly handle the enrollment process. However, we need to come up with a plausible story to tell the school officials." He took several draws on his cigar, as he worked it out in his mind.

"I presume you have his birth certificate, and any other forms? Death certificates from the army for his parents?" Jarrod had dealt with military lawyers before, and knew that they were always good at handling the paperwork. Maisy told him yes, she had all the documents from the army.

"My suggestion is that we use your married name, and I will explain that you are infirm and unable to leave your house." He offered, and noticed that she became really agitated. Jarrod asked her about it, and she referenced the demise of her husband.

"Stop right there Maisy – I don't want to hear too much about that. From what you've told me, it was self-defense and we will leave it at that." There was no time limit on being charged with murder, and he didn't want to open that up. "I have my doubts that anything that happened before the war, in the remote bayou, is still a cause for concern." Jarrod did think it was self-defense, from what Maisy had told him.

"No, we will use your widowed name, and state that you are living in a set of apartments by the waterfront." He went on to add a few details, being careful to keep as close to the truth as possible. "Since Noah is not talking, he won't be telling anyone the correct version of his living arrangements." Truly Jarrod wished the boy wasn't living at what was basically a brothel – even a high class one – but decided to tackle one thing at a time.

"Does he know how to read? Write?" Jarrod started thinking of all the pitfalls in this plan, and almost groaned, imagining various scenarios in his mind. However, he was her lawyer, and what she was asking him to do was not illegal. Maisy affirmed that he knew how to read, and write, from what she had seen so far.

"Fine, we'll give it a try, provided the school will take him." He wondered how the boy was going to be able to function in the classroom setting.

"Wonderful Jarrod! I will have Buford, Sadie's husband bring him to your office tomorrow morning." Maisy stood up, seeing it as a done deal in her mind. "You can take him over to school and get everything set up."

"Wait Maisy, I need to talk to the school teacher first about Noah. She probably has some testing she will do, to see what he knows." Jarrod picked up his cigar and took a puff, as he thought about talking to Priscilla Converse about the matter. He had only met her two times, the first at the interview, and the second when she came to dinner. His impression was that she was down to earth and sensible, in spite of her youth. That was especially clear in how she seemed to handle his brother Nick, who was clearly smitten with her.

"Let me talk to Miss Converse, and see how she wants to proceed." Jarrod didn't like the idea of lying to Priscilla, about Noah's living situation, but knew that his duty to Maisy came first. "I'll send you a note once I've done that."

"Thank you Jarrod. Let me go get Rosemary for you." Maisy almost purred as she gave him a winning smile. He watched her walk out of the room, thinking that he would more than be earning his reward.

"Madame said that you had concluded your business Jarrod." Rosemary's sultry voice brought him back to the present. She came over and straddled his lap, the silk of her bloomers whispering slightly as she moved. "What would you like to do now?" She inquired, already knowing what he had in mind.

"Quite a lot of things, my sweet Rosemary; quite a lot of things." He answered with a chuckle.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter Eleven**_

Priscilla was at the school house extra early this morning, waiting for Jarrod and his charge to arrive. It had been two days since she and Nick had sat in the moonlight, with the memory always being in the forefront of her mind. She had fallen asleep in a happy haze, and had woken up with a plan in place.

It was clear that she and Nick enjoyed being with each other, but before they would be able to explore that further he would have to know about her sister. Priscilla decided that the next time she saw Nick, she would request some of his time, for a private talk. She was going to bring the issue of Hester up, to get it out in the open. There was the small fear, at the back of her mind, that once Nick had been told, he might want nothing to do with her. However, it was a chance she had to take, saying a silent prayer that it would all work out.

A lot of yesterday had been spent wondering if he was going to call in the evening, which would have given her the chance to talk to him. When she'd found out from Sarah the next day, that he and Heath had gone out to the far range, and would be there for several days she had sighed with frustration.

Of course Nick wasn't the only man interested in her, she thought to herself now, as she corrected some papers. Priscilla had been both flattered and dismayed at how she was regarded, by the bachelors in Stockton. She felt like she was the prize to be won, and didn't like feeling that way. It perplexed her, because she had never sought the kind of attention she was getting.

A banker, a son of a shipping magnate, and several others had shown interest in her, but none to the extent that Zack and JR Morton had. Priscilla had no doubt that JR's interest in the bible study group had nothing to do with religion. He though actually had offered some good insights on St. Paul, in the group, but she had finally figured out his eyes were slightly off center, making it look like he was staring.

Zack was a whole another matter, and she wished she had Phoebe to giggle with, about how masculine both he and Nick were. When she'd gone to the Morton's barn with Deacon Richens and his family; which she was sure was a set-up from the get go. Rufus Morton served on the Steering Committee for the church, which meant he had influence on church matters too.

Mr. Morton, along with JR, had been off on the eastern range, leaving Zack clearly in charge. Priscilla had enjoyed seeing the fine horses in the stable, and it reminded her of how she missed riding. When she lived in Los Angeles, she had enjoyed riding outside of the city. Her grandparents had several friends among the ranchers, who were happy to let her borrow their horses.

Priscilla had expressed her desire to ride again on the spur of the moment, as she stroked the velvet nose of a pretty little bay mare with white socks. Zack had told her that the mare was trained for side saddle, and offered to let Priscilla take the mare out riding if she wanted.

It had caused her to sigh inwardly, because she knew that if she took Zack up on his offer, he would come along. Priscilla had looked over at the mare, and wished that she didn't come with strings attached. Instead she had told Zack that she would like to ride, once she had the classroom situation under control.

In fact the classroom was a breeze, and she and the students had all settled in very well. Granny Elspeth had told her that she would need to be accommodating of the town's schedule, which Priscilla heeded. She adjusted the start times to help the children coming from the outlying areas, offering the students who resided in town the option of extra study time.

Priscilla had thought she'd put Zack off successfully, but had not reckoned with his father; her boss. Mr. Morton had requested an early dismal two weeks ago, to let the children attend a matinee performance of a traveling circus. She had been happy to comply, looking forward to going also to see the show. Instead Mr. Morton had shown up once school was let out, and invited her out to lunch. He had intimated that he wanted to discuss the curriculum so she had gone along.

The restaurant was top notch, a fine dining establishment that over looked the river. Priscilla and Mr. Morton had been shown to the best table in the room by a bowing maître de. Over lunch, all prepared by a French chef, her boss had told her about his late wife, before he went on to talk about the ranch in the valley, along with another ranch and many mines in the Arizona territory. From there he had raved about Zack and the great future he had ahead of him. Mr. Morton had also been complimentary to JR, but the message that Priscilla heard was very clear. Zack was the heir and first in line, but JR wasn't going to do badly either.

It had made Priscilla want to giggle at how she had three young, handsome men who would give her a wealthy lifestyle, even as she didn't care about that. Her sister had ended up marrying a man as old as their grandfather to get the same thing. When she'd thought that though a wave of sadness had come over her, because her sister had had Nick at her feet, and she had mucked it up.

Priscilla sighed sadly, before deciding to stop daydreaming, and get back to why she was at the schoolhouse extra early. She picked up the note that she'd received yesterday, from Jarrod, on his business letterhead.

The note stated that Jarrod had a client who was infirm, but had just taken over guardianship of her grandson. Jarrod gave details about the background of the boy's life, and his current condition after the gruesome death of his parents. The grandmother thought it would be good for the boy to be in school, so Jarrod was hoping that he could bring the boy and do the enrollment process for his client.

The request was very straightforward in Priscilla's mind, but she hoped that with all the trauma the boy had suffered he would be able to handle being in a classroom. She had no idea what kind of schooling he'd had before, but Priscilla had some tests ready to go, to see what the boy knew. The matter of the boy's muteness was going to make teaching him interesting, to say the least. Her musing was interrupted by the door opening, and she looked up to see Jarrod in a well tailored suit, holding the hand of a short for his age boy, with flaming red hair and green eyes.

She took in Jarrod's handsome good looks, and couldn't fathom how Hester had not talked about the lawyer. Priscilla had heard that Jarrod spent a lot of time in both San Francisco and Sacramento, and she wondered if he'd been away when 'hurricane Hester' hit town. The evening she'd had dinner with the Barkley's had been very pleasant, even with having to be reserved with Nick.

Luckily Jarrod was following a case the district attorney in Los Angeles was trying, which was generating a great deal of newspaper coverage. The case involved the dock workers at the small port; it was concerning because of the case; if it went in favor of labor's side, San Francisco could be the next city. Jarrod knew very little about the port down there, and Priscilla was glad to explain the history of the waterfront to him.

Sarah had told her about how Jarrod's wife had died, after a very short courtship and marriage. Priscilla had thought it sounded romantic and tragic all at the same time. It also intrigued her that a man like Jarrod, who seemed very deliberate in all things, would marry so quickly to someone he had just met. Thinking about Nick and her sister, she wondered if impulsiveness was a family trait with the Barkleys.

Her grandparents liked to say _marry in haste, repent at leisure_, and Priscilla had seen how true that was several times. Sarah had told her about meeting Heath, and their courtship, which had been slow and steady. Priscilla was sure that some of that was Heath's background, which Sarah had also told her about. The respect that Priscilla felt for Mrs. Barkley had only increased when she'd hear the story of Heath's arrival.

Jarrod, as he walked into the schoolroom had no idea what Priscilla was thinking about him and Nick. He had been relived that Priscilla had replied to his note so quickly, and didn't seem to be bothered by the circumstances. When Buford had shown up at his office this morning, with Noah and all the paperwork, Jarrod had been taken aback by how much the boy resembled Maisy. Luckily she wasn't the only red-head in town, but he still worried that some father of one of the other students might make the connection.

"Good morning Jarrod." Priscilla stood up and walked over to where the boy and man were standing. She greeted him with a cheerful smile, before she knelt down in front of the child. "You must be Noah Jones; welcome to the Stockton school. I'm Miss Converse, the teacher here." She had found that for children in new situations, getting down to their level really helped them feel comfortable.

Noah nodded his head in greeting, but didn't try to take her outstretched hand, instead keeping them at his sides. His clear green eyes though took in the classroom, and Priscilla noticed how they lingered on the library corner.

"Do you like to read Noah?" She asked, and was rewarded with a shy nod of his head. "Well when we are done you can go look at the books. Let me tell you some things about how I run my classroom, and then I have some work for you to do." Priscilla went on to explain about the bible verse, and the schedule for the classes.

Jarrod moved slightly back from Noah, to let Priscilla take charge of the situation. He watched as she showed him a desk, with some papers laid out on it. She went on to explain that one was a math sheet, and the other a grammar sheet. Priscilla stated that Noah was just expected to answer the questions he knew; the sheets were designed to show where he was education wise. Noah took it all in stride, Jarrod noticed, being very happy to cooperate with Priscilla. It was clear that she was good with children, he noted to himself.

He reminded himself that she had handled herself well every time he'd seen her, remembering how Priscilla had Rufus eating out of her hand by the end of the interview. His mother too had been satisfied with her, Jarrod thought. Watching her with Nick, the night she came to dinner had also been illuminating. Jarrod noticed the longing in her eyes, when she looked at Nick, even as she was trying to be guarded with him. As far as Nick, he was an open book, but Jarrod had been impressed with how he had invited everyone to tour the vineyard, being careful not to single Priscilla out. He hoped that the pretty school teacher would teach his impetuous brother patience, if nothing else.

The last thing Jarrod wanted was for Nick to get hurt again, and he was concerned that Priscilla could be a heartache waiting to happen. Jarrod had heard through the town grapevine that the Morton boys were very interested in her. The tidbit that she'd had lunch with Rufus at the Chart House had been talked about. Gossip was divided on whether Rufus used the lunch to further his sons' cause, or his own. Heath's comment, from the day at Sunday dinner had come to his mind, but he'd kept his mouth shut.

"Jarrod, while Noah is doing the questions, let's go over to my desk to get him enrolled. You said in your note that you had his documents?" Priscilla turned her attention back to Jarrod, who'd mostly been silent. She had several questions for him, and hoped he would be able to answer them. The lawyer followed her over to the end of the room where her desk was set up. Jarrod took the chair indicated, and passed her a folder.

"His grandmother is Mrs. Marguerite St. Romaine." Priscilla was sorting through the paperwork. "That name sounds French?" She was puzzled because she'd assumed that the grandmother was American.

"The family was from New Orleans originally." Jarrod figured that the city was big enough to throw anyone off the scent of Maisy's life in the bayou. "They came west after the war, to start a new life." He knew that his story would be accepted without question, because so many people had left the south after the end of the war.

"I see that the contact address is on Main Street – is that an office?" By now Priscilla was very familiar with Stockton, and could place the address with no problem.

"Priscilla that is my office address. Mrs. St. Romaine has all of her correspondence sent to my office, for handling." Jarrod was now glad that he had thought of this wrinkle out ahead of time. He didn't want Priscilla to decide to pay a house call on Noah's family. She had no business being anywhere near Maisy's establishment, and his earlier fears about this whole matter came back to him.

"I see his birth certificate here, so let me record that information." Priscilla had sorted through the papers, to find the one she needed. "I have to record information on the students, and sometimes it is hard if the family doesn't have the documents." She had pulled out a large leather book, and was opening it.

"Is that a common problem? Is it a state law that you have to record the information?" Jarrod was curious about what she'd just told him.

"It does happen, especially if the family has moved around a great deal. Luckily, they always seem to hold on to the family bible, which will have an entry for the birth." Priscilla had started writing in the book, and he noticed her neat handwriting. "As far as the records, it is mostly to note birthdates, so we know how old the children are. My understanding is that Mr. Morton, after he took over as president of the school board, instituted the formal record keeping."

Jarrod heard this and felt his breath catch in his throat, as he imagined Rufus going through the book, and being curious about the new student. Considering what Rufus' reaction to Joshua Watson had been, Jarrod didn't want to think about how he would handle Maisy's grandson. He wanted to grab Noah and get out of the schoolhouse before things went any further. Priscilla though stopped his internal conversation.

"Has Noah been examined by a doctor, in regard to his muteness?" Priscilla inquired, and noticing Jarrod's puzzled look she explained her reasons for asking. "Is anyone really sure the muteness is recent? Maybe he has some damage to his vocal chords, or throat?" She was being careful to keep her voice low, and not mention the massacre at the fort.

"Priscilla that is a good question. I'm sure the army doctors would have examined him after he was rescued. However, the fort was attacked, with no survivors." Jarrod too kept his voice low. "My client had not seen her daughter for many years, because of her husband's postings. I will though certainly ask her about the matter." He prided himself on not lying if at all possible, and thought he had come up with a plausible reason why the grandmother knew very little about the boy.

Even as he was thinking that, he saw Priscilla look up, in Noah's direction. The boy was done, sitting there very calmly, Jarrod noticed. It made him want to laugh, at how Priscilla had known that Noah was finished. When he was in school Jarrod and his friends had always wondered how the teacher knew what they were up to. Obviously, Priscilla had the same ability that his teachers had possessed.

"Noah, I see that you have finished the papers." Priscilla had stood up and walked over to the desk, to pick up the sheets. "I need to look these over, so why don't you go over the library corner and examine the books. If there are any you want to check out." She went on to explain the system, with the card file she used, before she came back over to her desk.

Jarrod watched her examine, and grade the sheets, noticing how her eyes widened as she did so. Priscilla picked up another sheet, which he saw was the answer key, to double check some of the answers. He started to get very worried that Maisy had been wrong about Noah knowing how to read and write.

"Your note said that he'd been living on a frontier army fort – are you sure about that?" She glanced over at him, a perplexed look on her face. Jarrod asked her about it, and heard her sigh. "Noah is not only very intelligent, but he has been well educated too." He was very taken aback at her statement, and inquired about it.

"I have children five years older than Noah who couldn't do some of these math problems, Jarrod. Someone took the time to explain mathematic equations to him, and teach him some Latin!" Priscilla went on to show him what she meant, and what the tests were composed of. He soon saw what she was talking about, and understood her puzzlement.

"Noah, would you come over here please?" Priscilla's musical voice called out, and Jarrod had a sudden longing to hear her read poetry. Even as he had that thought, he pushed it away, not wanting to go down that path. His life was finally getting back on track, but he wasn't ready for a serious romantic relationship. Jarrod decided then and there to go visit Rosemary again tonight, for the company she provided.

Priscilla wasn't aware of Jarrod's private thoughts, wanting to see if Noah had some means of communicating with everyone else. She was glad to see that he put down the book he'd been pursuing, and walked over to her desk. It meant that his hearing was intact, even if his voice wasn't.

"You are a very smart young man Noah." Priscilla smiled at him, and saw that he looked pleased at her compliment. "Did you have a teacher at the army post you lived at?" She hoped that the mention of the doomed fort wouldn't upset him, and was relieved to see that he nodded his head in reply. Carefully scanning his face for any fear Priscilla didn't detect any mental upset.

"What can you tell me about your teacher, Noah? Was he." She knew that she was jumping to conclusions about the instructor's gender, but the study of Latin tended to be a male specialty. Her grandfather had taught her a rudimentary amount, as they studied the scriptures together; most schools did not educate women in the dead language.

"Was he a military man?" Priscilla could see how one of the officers, educated at West Point, with time on his hands, might run a school at the outlying frontier post. Time could hang heavy on educated men's minds, she knew well from her grandfather. She was gratified when she saw Noah smile, and nod his head. He then stood up very straight and saluted smartly at her; in reply she inclined her head and then said he could go back to the library corner.

"Jarrod, I think one of the officers at the fort ran a school on the side." Priscilla informed him, once Noah was back in the corner. She went on to explain her assumption, and he had to concur with it. Jarrod was now even more impressed with the young woman in front of him, seeing that she was very shrewd too.

"I hate to put more work on your shoulders Jarrod, but it would be a big help to me if I knew something about what happened." Priscilla's face took on a concerned look, as she put her slim, white hand on his arm. He noticed the tapering fingers, and was very aware of the light touch through his jacket. "Would you be willing to find out, from the army, exactly what happened? And the casualty list?" She asked, her blue eyes regarding him with hope. Jarrod found himself suddenly very envious of Nick; if Priscilla ever looked at him like she'd been looking at his brother that evening he would be happy to throw his hat into the ring.

"Priscilla, why would that help you?" Jarrod forced himself to focus on her request, and not her pretty, caring face. "Do you think my client is right, about Noah coming here to school?" He was still having second thoughts about the idea, because it could blow up in both their faces.

"Absolutely Mrs. St. Romaine is doing the right thing, Jarrod. Noah is very smart, and with everything he has been through, he needs normalcy in his life." Priscilla replied, and Jarrod tried not to wince, thinking the House of Flowers was not a normal life for a child. He swallowed and asked why she wanted the details about the massacre.

"Noah as of now has blocked out the tragedy of the massacre; that is what children do in times of great stress. It is their survival response, and how they get through the heartache." Priscilla's teaching had included a class on how children think, taught by a man who had studied in Europe. "At some point though, once he is fed, secure, and well rested, the sorrow is going to hit him head on. Noah is going to want to talk about his family, and his previous life. It will certainly help me in dealing with him and his grandmother too, if we know what his life was."

Jarrod listened to what she was saying, and heard the concern in her voice, for Noah who she had just met. He thought of his earlier observance, of what a good teacher she was, as he had watched her with the boy. Something about the depth of her concern reminded him of Beth, his late wife, and how she had always wanted to help everyone. It had been one of the things that had drawn him to her, was just how kind and caring she was.

"Of course Priscilla I can find out. I'll contact the army and get the official reports to start." Jarrod suddenly want to give her anything she wanted. "I know that Mrs. St. Romaine will want to know that information also, so I can get a Pinkerton man to look into it also." In truth, he figured that Maisy would probably care less, and he would end up paying the agency's fee. It would be worth it though, if Priscilla could help Noah; it was just what Beth would have done too.

"Thank you Jarrod. I am so glad you understand." Her hand was still on his arm, and she squeezed it gently, causing a warm rush of feeling in Jarrod. He felt lightheaded, and looked at her bemusedly, noticing how pink, white and blue she was, encircled by what he saw as a golden glow. It would be easy to fall for her, Jarrod saw. Priscilla was the kind of wife a man would want to come home to, if he wanted that.

"Priscilla, it will take several weeks to get this information." Jarrod stood up, deciding to get on with his day – and life. She was not for him, other than as a friend, and Jarrod didn't want to muck that up. Another visit to the House of Flowers needed to be put on his schedule, as he thought of sweet Rosemary. The knowledge that rosemary was an herb, and not a flower came to his mind, making him want to ask Maisy about that.

"By the way, if you have concerns about Noah that you want to address to his grandmother, please send them to my office?" It was the thought of Maisy that made him aware that he needed to put another safeguard in place. "As I said, I handle all of her correspondence, so I will make sure she gets the note." The last thing he needed was Priscilla anywhere near Maisy, or her establishment.

"I will note that in Noah's file, Jarrod." Priscilla smiled and extended her hand for him to shake. "Does he walk home by himself?" She wanted to know if someone would be picking him up or not at the end of the day.

"For the first couple of weeks a colored gentleman named Buford, who works for Mrs. St. Romaine, will be bringing him to and from school." Jarrod had discussed that with Maisy too. "Once he is settled his grandmother will decide if he can walk alone." He had pointed out to Maisy that young boys liked their freedom. After saying goodbye Jarrod left the schoolhouse, thoughts of Nick and Priscilla on his mind.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter Twelve**_

Nick put the letter from Audra back into the envelope and rose up from the table he'd been sitting at in the Cattleman's Hotel Bar. He'd come into town earlier that afternoon, to order supplies and pick up the mail. There had been a letter for him, from his sister, and he'd decided to have a drink while he read it. The contents made him glad that he'd had the foresight to get a drink ahead of time.

Audra had been on the east coast for the entire summer and fall; she was going to be home for Christmas. Nick was looking forward to having his sister home, having missed her more than he let on. When they were growing up she had followed after him as much as their mother allowed a young girl. He had been annoyed outwardly with her, but inwardly he'd been impressed with just how spirited Audra really was.

The contents of her letter had hurt him now, not because of the information in it, but because of her assumptions about his reaction. The short version was that she and Carl Wheeler had been corresponding since the death of his mother, back in the spring. Nick still felt guilt at how his stubborn pride about the damn sheep had caused the burgeoning romance between his sister and his ex-friend to falter. He had been so determined to get his way, no matter what, that he had not thought about anyone else.

His sister's letter talked about how she and Carl and rekindled the feelings they'd had for each other, as Audra helped him deal with his mother's death. She went on to state that she was done with the east coast, and didn't want to go to Europe again either. Audra missed the valley, and everything that went with it. Carl wanted to call on her once she returned, but he was afraid of Nick's reaction – as was she.

He could read between the lines, and was sure that Carl and Audra were in love and wanted to marry. It was hard to feel like they saw him as the impediment to their happiness. From his point of view he would bless the marriage gladly. Nick had missed having Carl as his friend, and knew that the man would be a good husband to his sister.

_Once again something else I mucked up with my stupid pride and impulsivenes_s Nick muttered to himself, planning on writing Audra a letter as soon as he arrived home. He also decided that he needed to pay a visit out to the Wheeler ranch, to square things. His family had attended the funeral of Carl's mother, and the lunch afterwards. They had exchanged the well worn words of condolence, even as Nick had been aware of the cold tone of Carl's responses to him.

Nick was in low spirits anyway, with how and where his life currently was. On the one hand the ranch operations, along with the citrus groves and vineyards, were having a banner year. It was due to his oversight that the holdings were all doing so well, and he so wanted to take comfort and pride in that fact. However, none of that seemed to matter right now, just being positive entries in a ledger.

Heath was happily in love and engaged, Audra was probably going down that same path, and Jarrod had a spring in his step that had been missing since Beth's death. Nick though was still painfully alone, even as he had so many people who wanted to be with him. His desk was full of invitations to numerous events, where there would be pretty young ladies who would try to catch his eye. There was though only one girl he wanted, but the fates did not seem to be cooperating in the matter.

It was just over two weeks ago that he and Priscilla had sat in the moonlight and talked, which Nick had not wanted to end. He still cursed Fred's interruption, even as he knew that it had saved the deputy's life and resulted in the capture of a dangerous outlaw. Nick had not been able to see Priscilla again until that weekend, at a dance the Grand Army of the Republic Veterans Association was hosting.

He had arrived at the event looking forward to dancing with her, and hopefully talking with her some more. Nick was able to dance with her twice, but had the impression that she was rather cool towards him. The feeling that he was being kept at arm's length came to his mind, and he wondered if she was feeling bad about sitting with him in the moonlight.

It had not been fun to watch her dance with other men, especially Zack Morton. Nick did notice though that she didn't favor anyone particularly, and when it was time for the waltzes she made it a point to dance with the old veterans. He had to give her credit for her actions, because the old men were pleased beyond words. She was kind and considerate, Nick saw, and he remembered Heath's comment about looking beyond the pretty face.

Coming back to the present, Nick decided to go over to the schoolhouse, to see if Priscilla was still there. School was out by now, but he figured that she might have stayed to grade papers, or other work. Nick wanted to talk to her, about the next several weeks. He was slated to go oversee a pump installation at one of the mines along the Mexican border.

Normally Heath would have handled it, since he had ordered the new pump equipment after much research. Heath though had asked Nick to cover for him, so he could get some finish work in on the house. Nick had walked around the almost completed dwelling with brother, and listened as Heath told him his plans. It had been very easy to agree to do the trip, as he saw the pride and happiness in his brother's eyes, as he looked at the house.

That wasn't all he wanted to discuss with her, wanting to know if she in fact did have a beau in San Francisco. Nick had gone through other possible reasons for the coolness she exhibited around him, but couldn't come up with another explanation. He and Priscilla had connected very closely that night on the porch, in Nick's opinion, and he was sure she felt it to.

Undoubtedly the following morning she had felt guilty about their time together, seeing it as betrayal to the boy in San Francisco. While he could admire her sense of honor, she was still young, and the beau had not even come to see her in Stockton. Nick always heard about any newcomers in town, and knowing how much attention Priscilla received, if the beau had shown up it would be grist for the gossip mill in no time.

Turning down Second St. he came up alongside the school house, and started to walk up the front porch. Nick stopped though and looked in the window off to the side and was surprised to see Zack and Priscilla together. They were sitting at the small table in the library corner, having tea and talking. Zack must have said something funny, because Priscilla was laughing in reply. Nick felt like he had been kicked in the gut, as he took a deep breath, looking at the schoolhouse.

It hurt to see them together, looking happy, and Nick now pondered if Zack was the reason for Priscilla's coolness. At the time Nick had dismissed the betting pool that Samson was running, but when he'd been at the Cattleman's bar earlier he had discretely checked the betting book. Nick had been dismayed to find that his odds were 5 to 2, way behind several other men. He had noticed that Zack was 2 to 1, while Rufus was 3 to 1, making Nick wonder what dinner table conversation was like at the Morton's. The only consolation was that he had better odds than JR, which said something, even as the other man was still going to bible study faithfully.

Nick's heart ached, as he thought about the night on the porch swing with Priscilla. He remembered the first time they'd met, and the way she'd hugged him. He didn't understand why, when they seemed to have such a close connection, she kept on putting him off. It also bugged him that she didn't seem to be putting Zack off like she was him, which made Nick grind his teeth in frustration.

He walked off to the side of the schoolhouse, and paused to think what he should do next. Part of Nick wanted to stride into the classroom and haul Zack out of there. Thinking about his sister and Carl, the problems his impulsive behavior had caused in the past came back to him with force; he knew that what he wanted to do would only backfire big time. Nick took a deep breath, and worked to unclench his hands, as he pondered what to do next.

Clearly he and Priscilla needed to talk about what was between them, but now was not going to be the time. Nick didn't want to wait several weeks, but saw that was what he would have to do, because of his trip to the mine. He was scheduled to leave early tomorrow morning, and had to be there in three days, when the new equipment arrived. As he turned away from the schoolhouse a plan started to form in his mind.

On the way back to the ranch he would stop by and see Carl, to make amends. He would also write the letter to Audra tonight, so it could be posted tomorrow. His time away from the valley would be spent thinking about what he was going to say to Priscilla, and how he would handle it if she told him that she was involved with a beau in San Francisco – or Zack Morton. The thought of losing her was painful to think about, but Nick knew it could happen.

It was with a heavy step that he trudged over to the livery stable, all the time seeing Priscilla and Zack sitting at the table laughing. If Nick could have heard the talk in the schoolhouse he would have been very surprised at the content, and not so disheartened.

_Half an hour earlier…_

Zack Morton bounded up the steps to the schoolhouse in a happy frame of mind. When Priscilla had asked him last Sunday at church, about doing her a favor he had been happy to comply. They had been part of a group of young people who were talking together after the service. He had mentioned his upcoming trip to San Francisco, and she had asked then about the favor.

In truth Zack would have done anything for her, because he was very attracted to her. However, it was dawning on him that she didn't have the same type of feelings for him. It was too bad, because she was not only pretty, but good company too. That was part of the reason why he'd finally cornered his Pa about Priscilla.

The night in the bar, after he'd heard the news about the betting pool he'd rushed off to get JR. His brother had not been happy to be dragged out of the bible study, and did not seem especially upset at hearing about their father and Priscilla. Zack at that point had started to think the world might be coming to an end, starting with his family. He spent another three days stewing about the whole thing, and avoiding his Pa.

When he did talk to his Pa, one afternoon when it was just the two of them out riding, the man had been shocked at what people were implying about him and Priscilla. Rufus explained to Zack that he'd just been trying act as a father figure to the young woman, since her father and grandfather were both dead. It was then that he told Zack about how he had tried to further his cause with Priscilla, by pointing out what a good man – and catch – he was.

Even now Zack winced internally when he thought about what his father had done, in the name of helping him. He certainly appreciated Pa's efforts, he thought to himself, but didn't want to get Priscilla that way. Zack wanted a woman to like him for himself, and not because of the Morton name or wealth. He told Pa that, and asked him to stop trying to force a relationship with Priscilla, which included constantly inviting her for Sunday dinner.

Luckily Rufus heard what was being said, and confessed to Zack that he admired him for the stand he was taking. He was impressed that Zack was dealing with him man to man, and offered up a silent prayer of thanks that his son was strong enough to talk to him. Rufus was also embarrassed that people thought he might be interested in a woman young enough to be his daughter. He made the decision to step back, but that didn't mean he couldn't keep on praying about it.

"Zack thank you for doing this; I do appreciate it." Priscilla greeted him happily, and he noticed how pretty she looked. Her skirt was dark green wool, with ruching in the same fabric, the bustle being trimmed with chocolate brown lace. Her blouse was cream colored with a ruffled sailor collar, the tie and piping being done in the same shade of brown velvet. Her honey gold hair was tidily put up; letting him notice the simple pearl drop earring she wore.

"Well now if I have to play delivery man, at least I get tea with a pretty girl in return for my efforts." Zack replied, removing his hat and bowing slightly. He liked very feminine women, and Priscilla with all her lace and ruffles, as well as her good looks, stirred him on so many levels. They sat down and Priscilla offered tea, along with scones served with Devonshire cream and strawberry jam. Zack had been to Europe before, so he knew all about the tradition; plus he was always hungry from the hard ranch work.

"So I need to drop the two packages off at the Teaching College, and there will be one for me to pick up?" He asked, after having had several sips of his tea, as well as four scones heavily loaded with cream and jam. Zack had a vision of Priscilla sitting in the front room of his house, serving him these treats, as he came in from working. It was beguiling on so many levels, including some rather lascivious thoughts on the cream and jam. He didn't feel ashamed about them, because he was a man after all, and Priscilla would make a fine wife. She was fun and jolly – not the least bit stuck up – and Zack was not immune to her charms.

"Yes, one of the packages is for Dean Locke, who runs the college." Priscilla offered Zack another scone, as she talked. "The other is for my old roommate, Phoebe Miller. She has some books for me, which she will leave at the front desk." She worked hard to keep her face neutral, having already given her best friend a heads up.

"It is very nice of you to send shortbread to them." Zack replied, remembering her explanation of the packages. He had tasted her shortbread too, and thought it was delicious. What she said next made him smile.

"There is also a package here for you with some shortbread, as a thank you for doing this." Priscilla saw how happy he was, and hoped that her plan would work. She would be willing to keep Zack in shortbread if it did. "Phoebe is excited about the cookies, but wishes I was delivering them. We miss each other very much; did you know we started together at the college?"

"If you both started together, why is she still there?" Zack asked, after he finished a scone. He was debating another one, but decided to drink some tea instead. Coffee would have been better, but he was going to take what he was offered.

"Phoebe had to go home for a semester, to take care of her mother, who was ill. She comes from a large family, and there are still small children at home." Priscilla replied. "Her family owns a chandler shop in San Diego. That was something else both of us had in common – we were from the southern part of the state, where it is sunny. San Francisco was a shock to both of us." She added, and Zack nodded his head in agreement.

The next several minutes were spent with Zack telling her about some of the bad weather he'd seen in the city, and why he preferred the valley so much. He made her laugh, and Zack thought her laughter was probably what angels sounded like. If only she liked him more, he said to himself, as he ladled jam and cream on a scone.

"Now while I'm gone you're not going to take up with my brother, are you? All that bible study and all." Zack asked more to tease than anything else. He was rewarded with another peel of laughter, as Priscilla tossed her head.

"I don't think Alice would like that one bit." She retorted, naming the girl who had captured JR's interest. Alice Graham was the seventeen year old daughter of the foreman from the Dixon ranch. She had blond hair, and blue eyes, along with a pretty figure. JR had taken notice of her when she corrected something he'd said about St. Paul, and it went from there.

"Alice is very sweet, but I don't think she's seen the real JR." Zack observed, having met the young lady one Sunday after church. "You know that the bible study thing started out as a way to get to know you. JR still goes to the saloon, and plays cards." He didn't want to see his brother married to someone who wouldn't make him happy. His brother liked good whiskey as much as he did, and smoked too; girls could be funny about that kind of thing, as Zack knew too well.

"Did you know that Alice knows how to play poker? Her father taught all the kids as a way for them to learn math." Priscilla had in fact had the same fear that Zack had, but in talking to Alice she had been relieved. "I guess to that her father always does well when he plays at the Cattleman's Association meetings." She saw that Zack was slightly surprised that she knew about the meetings, but Sarah had told her all about them.

"Well thing maybe she could teach JR a few things about the game." Zack grinned, thinking that maybe Alice would do for JR after all. A part of him was sad though, because while things might be working out for JR, they certainly weren't for him. He was tired of being the eligible bachelor on the town, and really wanted a wife and family to come home to. Inwardly sighing, he pushed the thought away and finished his tea, before he said goodbye.

Zack rode him not quite as dejected as Nick had been, but close to it; even the shortbread wasn't going to help that much. At least San Francisco would provide a change in scenery, and there were any number of places a man could find pleasure and amusement.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Nick Barkley worked hard to curb his impatience, as he strode into the foyer of the Phipps' town home. Ogden Phipps owned the shipping line that provided over half of the trade along the river that ran through the valley. Their Christmas party every year was the highlight of the holiday season, and no one wanted to miss it.

The fact that it was the middle of December boggled Nick's mind, let alone the fact that he had only arrived home from the Mexican mine several hours earlier. The trip that was only supposed to be not quite three weeks had turned into an over month long ordeal. It had gone downhill almost right away with the news that the pump was delayed in transit.

On top of that there had been a local rebellion, with a band of guerillas wanting to protest the gringo exploiting the local labor force. Nick had been especially galled at that charge, since the Barkley mine was providing well paying jobs to the people of the area. In his opinion a man would be better served to have work that would provide for his family, than some pie in the sky promises offered by a dubious political party.

Jarrod and Heath were much better at dealing with that kind of issue, in Nick's opinion, than he was. Nick had no patience when he had a deadline to meet; he also didn't trust people who talked too much and worked too little. Added to his annoyance was the situation with Priscilla – it seemed like the Almighty was putting roadblocks in his path. He ground his teeth everything he pictured her and Zack laughing together, at the table in the schoolroom.

The only good news was that he, Audra, and Carl were at peace; further more Audra had given him insight into his situation with Priscilla. After leaving the school house he'd gone out to the Wheeler Ranch, to call on Carl. Nick had found it easier than he'd thought it would be, to swallow his pride and apologize. He wanted Audra to be happy, and knew that Carl would make her a good husband, even as she would enjoy being close to her family.

Arriving home, he had sat down, after a plate of leftovers that Silas had warmed for him, to write to his sister. Nick had found it easy to pour his heart out to her, and once he finished talking about his visit with Carl, the matter of Priscilla had almost leapt from the pen. When he was done, having set down his writing his concerns and fears, he had sealed it for posting, to go out the next day.

Nick had been in Mexico almost three weeks, dealing with the pump installation and the insurrection, when Audra's reply had caught up with him. It had gone to Stockton first, before it was forwarded in a courier pouch, along with ranch documents that needed his attention. As he read the letter, the joy and happiness that Audra was feeling, at receiving Nick's blessing about her and Carl was apparent from the opening paragraph.

It was on the second page that Audra turned her attention to Nick's situation with Priscilla. Audra wrote that she liked what he had told her about Priscilla, glad that her brother had met a kind and sensible girl. She had then pointed out that if Nick was really serious about Priscilla, he needed to let her know his feelings. Nick went on to read about how it was Carl confessing his feelings, in one of his letters, that made Audra realize how important he was to her. In Audra's opinion Nick needed to talk with Priscilla, to find out what the situation really was.

Audra wrote that he was jumping to conclusions, and making up reasons for why the relationship couldn't – or wouldn't work. The best thing was to sit down privately with Priscilla, talk about his feelings for her, and see what she had to say. Nick read what his sister had written several times, and liked how she had cut to the chase. In certain ways he and Audra had tended to have the same temperament, for better or worse.

It was the resolve that he received from Audra's letter that got him through the last two weeks on the Mexican border. The pump had shown up, finally, to be installed with no problem. The guerillas had turned out to be all talk and no action – someone's second cousin had not come through with the ammunition that had been promised.

Once everything was settled at the mine, Nick had high tailed it back to the valley, to arrive at the ranch early evening, on a mid-December Friday. He had been taken aback to realize that the Phipps' party was that evening, and Christmas was less than two weeks away. Audra would be home next week, and it came to him that he had not done any shopping at all.

Silas informed him that the rest of the family had left for the party, and then inquired if Mr. Nick wanted to attend the event? Casting aside the thought of an early evening, he had dumped the documents on the desk in the study, to deal with them tomorrow. Nick went upstairs and took a quick bath, before changing into his evening clothes. The only reason he was going was to talk to Priscilla, to clear the air between them. Audra's words burned in his mind, and he saw how right she was, in telling him to be honest with Priscilla.

Making his way through the vestibule, he entered the ballroom, dazzling with miniature trees decorated with red and gold balls. The chandeliers and scones burned brightly, as they reflected the mirrored panels on the walls, which magnified the effect of the red and gold decorations. Nick though thought it was all too hot, and too crowded. He sighed, as he tried to find Priscilla, starting to wonder if she would even be here. It came to him that he had rushed off to this event, just once again making assumptions about her behavior.

Nick threaded his way through the ballroom, acknowledging the greetings he received, but not stopping to talk. He had a purpose in showing up, and if Priscilla wasn't here, Nick wasn't going to stay. He was tired and didn't really want to socialize if he didn't have to. The trip home from the Mexican border had been grueling, and he was almost physically and emotionally spent.

It was when he had made his way to the other side of the room that he finally saw her, which caused him to smile. The smile did not last though, as he noticed who she was talking to, as they stood close together. Nick was dismayed to see Jarrod with Priscilla, and from their body language it was clear they were very comfortable with each other.

He felt his heart clench, as he paused while he regarded his brother and Priscilla, intent on their conversation. Nick remembered his observation, from a month ago, of Jarrod having a spring in his step. The fact that Beth, Jarrod's late wife, had been a school teacher came to mind, even as recalled that his brother had been present at the initial interview with Priscilla.

Of course his brother would be attracted to the pretty school teacher, and Nick suddenly worried that Zack was not his worst rival. Just as he was all set to stride forward, as the hot emotions of jealousy and loneliness overtook him, he was jostled by another couple. When he looked at Jarrod and Priscilla again Nick realized that he was not seeing a romantic encounter.

Priscilla had a serious, concerned expression on her face, which was echoed on Jarrod's face. Nick had seen his brother in l_awyer act_ on many occasions, and he saw now that Jarrod was talking to Priscilla in not quite a professional capacity, but not a romantic capacity either. It made Nick wonder what his intention was, but he vaguely remembered his brother's interest in the trial going on in Los Angeles. Jarrod had certainly questioned Priscilla intently about the case the evening she came to dinner. Nick sighed again, wishing he didn't have the added complication of Jarrod with Priscilla.

Jarrod Barkley had been pleased to see Priscilla at the party, because it gave him the chance to talk to her in a social setting. He had received the information from the army a week earlier, and had had his secretary deliver it to her at the school house. In other circumstances he would have delivered it himself, but he didn't want to stir up any gossip. His big concern was having Nick come home, to hear rumors that weren't true.

In the future he was looking forward to having Priscilla as a friend, but until she and his brother had worked everything out, he was going to keep his distance. Nick's feelings for the pretty teacher were clear, and his brother's happiness was important to him. He knew that Nick reacted first and thought later, oftentimes to bad results; Jarrod was going to do nothing to step on his brother's toes in this affair. Jarrod had been spending quite a bit of time with Rosemary, and he was astute enough to see that she and Priscilla were each, in their own way, helping him get on with his life.

After he had sent the army's report to Priscilla, she had sent him a note in reply, thanking him for his efforts. Her plan was to read the documents, and then try to talk to Noah, to see what his response was. Priscilla promised to let him know what the results were, if she had any luck. Jarrod had also mentioned that the Pinkerton detective was pursuing a lead about two soldiers who'd been transferred from the fort just a week before the massacre.

Now he was standing with Priscilla, listening as she talked about what Noah's reaction had been to her questions. It was definitely promising, in Jarrod's mind, even as it was worrisome too. Jarrod still wasn't happy about Noah's living arrangements, but had to admit that Maisy was a very caring grandmother. He wished he could talk to Priscilla about that, because she had insight into the way a child's mind worked. Unfortunately though he couldn't bring that subject up to Priscilla, since she was a well brought up gentlewoman.

"Priscilla, I'll see what I can find out about Colonel Kelling. I'm sure any personal items recovered would have been sent to his family." Jarrod had become aware of Nick coming up to them, and he decided it was time for him to excuse himself. "Nick, welcome home! We were starting to wonder if you'd make it back for Christmas." He greeted his brother jovially, knowing that Nick was hardly aware of him, being too busy staring at Priscilla.

Jarrod took in how they were looking at each other, and couldn't help but smile fondly. He remembered how it was with him and Beth, when they'd first met. The wonder, awe, and slight fear, as they had regarded each other had made for a heady brew. He truly hoped that things would work out for Nick this time. If anyone deserved happiness, it was his middle brother, who worked so hard, and sacrificed so much for the family.

"Brother, you could be a very lucky man, if you don't muck it up by talking first and thinking later." Jarrod hissed in his brother's ear, as he went to slap him on the back, before he gave Priscilla his regards. Nick registered what his brother was saying, but thought it rather odd, even as he was wondering who this Colonel Kelling was that Jarrod had mentioned.

Those thoughts went out of his head though, as he stared at Priscilla who looked beautiful in her evening gown. It was brilliant white watered silk, trimmed with snowy white lace, and bunches of tiny red roses, decorated with tiny sparkling crystals. The effect was of roses coming out of the frost; the same roses with crystals were scattered among her formally put up among her honey blonde hair. He had never seen her formally dressed up before, and was staggered by just how amazing she looked.

The red touches were just enough to highlight her blue eyes, and creamy skin, as well as honor the holiday season. Until tonight, he would have assumed that sapphires would be the most complementary to Priscilla, because of her eyes. Now though, Nick saw that rubies would be the best choice, because of the contrast they provided. He smiled as he remembered a bible verse about a virtuous woman being more valuable than rubies; she was certainly that he thought.

Priscilla was staring at Nick with wide eyes, as she took in how handsome he looked in his evening clothes. His height and bearing made him almost take over the room, and she was amazed at how such a masculine man could also look self-assured in white tie and tails. Her mind turned to mush as she gazed at him, while her heart started racing fast.

She was surprised to see him here, having assumed that he was still in Mexico. Sarah had told her about the trip that Nick offered to do for Heath, and how happy she was about the gesture. Priscilla had been disappointed that Nick had not said goodbye to her before he left, which made her wonder what his feelings for her really were. It might be a moot point who her sister was, she thought to herself more than once.

"Hello Priscilla." Nick was surprised that he was able to get out that much, still feeling overwhelmed by the effect she was having on him. He'd never been tongue tied before, but Priscilla managed to accomplish that easily.

"Hello Nick." She replied simply, waiting to see what he wanted. Priscilla remembered how hurt she'd been to hear from Sarah that he had left, and not from him. "How was your trip?" That seemed a safe topic she thought, as she took a sip from the champagne glass she was holding. Her stomach felt like a swarm of butterflies had taken up residence there, and Priscilla hoped that the liquid would calm them.

"My trip?" Nick replied trying to gather his thoughts, as the urge to take her in his arms was hitting his body. Priscilla looked at him closely, wondering if he was drunk, based on his answer. She then noticed the circles under his eyes, and the stiff way he was holding himself, as if he was sore. Sarah had told her the other day, before she, her mother, and Heath left for San Francisco, that Nick's return had been delayed. Priscilla now wondered if the trip had not gone well, based on what she was noticing.

"Actually, it was hellish!" Nick's brain finally started moving, and he replied honestly, not thinking to edit his answer. Only after it came out did he realize how impolite it had been. "Please excuse my language Priscilla. Nothing went as planned, and everything took longer than it should of." He couldn't believe that he was cursing in front of her, and wanted to kick himself soundly.

"When did you get back? Have you had any rest?" Priscilla's annoyance at him, about not telling her goodbye left, as she heard what he was – and was not – saying. She wanted to put her arms around him, suddenly feeling bad for Nick. It was clear that he was exhausted, and should really be home sleeping, instead of at the party.

"I arrived earlier." He left it at that, not wanting to admit that he'd barely been back three hours. Nick was all set to say something else when an elderly man came up to Priscilla. The man bowed and asked her for the next dance; Nick recognized him right away, from the party for the GAR, back in November.

"Mr. Murray, I'm sorry but I've already promised the next waltz to Nick." Priscilla reached out and patted the older man's hand, as she made her excuses. The elderly man beamed at her with pleasure, as he noticed Nick standing there. His faded brown eyes took on a gleam, as he saw how the couple was looking at each other. He bowed and walked away, remembering what it was like to be a young man courting a pretty girl.

"I hope you don't mind dancing, Nick." Priscilla looked up at him, as she went on. "I really don't want my toes trod on." She giggled, which caused Nick to chuckle too, as he led her to the dance floor. The music was a waltz, and it felt wonderful to pull her into his arms. He knew he was holding her closer than was proper, but Priscilla felt so good, and she wasn't resisting him at all.

"No, I don't at all Priscilla. I like dancing with you a lot." Nick answered, thinking of all the other things he'd like to do with her too. The music encircled them, and to Priscilla it was like they were the only two people in the room. Nick's arms felt so good around her, and he danced with a grace that belied his tall frame.

All of a sudden the music ended too soon, in her opinion, and she found herself standing still on the dance floor, with Nick still holding her. Her body was flooded with feelings of love and longing, and she decided then and there that now was the time to tell Nick everything. Just as she was about to speak though, he started talking.

"Priscilla, can we go somewhere private to talk? There are some things I need to say." Nick had seen the attraction in her eyes, and the sparkle, as she regarded him. He sensed that something had changed with her, but tried not to get his hopes up, as they walked over to the French doors, that opened on to a terrace.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Chapter Fourteen**_

Nick led Priscilla through the French doors, and on to a flagstone terrace, which opened to a lawn that sloped down to the river. There was gazebo at one corner, as well as benches nestled discretely among bushes and shrubs. He knew the house well, his family having been friends with the Phipps' for years. His goal was a bench tucked in a corner, the back being bushes, and the front looking out over the wrought iron fence to the river.

For Nick, stepping into the cool night air felt wonderful after the crowded, hot ballroom, and he breathed deeply the scent of the river. As he led Priscilla down to the alcove bench, he became aware that while he had on a wool suit, she was in a delicate evening gown that left her arms bare. It wasn't lost on him that it was a ball gown with a décolleté neckline that hinted at feminine appeal, just enough to highlight her figure.

"Here, please take my jacket Priscilla." Nick, once they had sat down took his fine, smooth black wool jacket, with its satin facings off. She smiled appreciatively at him, as the cool night air, and breeze wafting from the river hit her, causing her to shiver slightly. Putting on his jacket though caused her to feel overwhelmed with emotion, as he snuggled the garment around her, letting his hands linger on her shoulders.

Priscilla had already been aware of his scent, slightly spicy and masculine, as they danced. Now though, having his jacket on her, it still holding his warmth, along with his scent, made her feel like she was floating on his cloud. The wool was soft, while the satin collar gleamed, as the silk lining caressed her bare arms. She picked up a faint essence of tobacco, and it made her think of her Grandpa Henry, as she inhaled the smoky, woodsy smell. That, along with the comforting feeling of being taken care of caused her to relax even further, as Nick's concern and scent encircled her.

"I didn't mean to bring you out in the cold, but I need to talk to you." Nick privately thought that his timing was ghastly, but figured it was his only shot. Nothing else had worked out, and he wanted to get things settled between them sooner, rather than later. He was done building castles – or disasters – in the sky, and needed to know where he stood.

"Priscilla, the entire time I was in Mexico, I thought about you all the time. Even before that, from the first time I met you, at the train station, you have been on my mind." Nick declared, and was taken aback to see Priscilla looking at him with skepticism. He didn't understand why she would be reacting the way she was, and he said as much.

"Nick, you didn't even say goodbye to bye to me, before you left! How can you say you thought about me the whole time?" Priscilla's annoyance was back, as she listened to what he was saying. She remembered their time on the porch swing in the moonlight, but how nothing had happened after that.

For his part Nick was surprised at her statement, as he remembered how he had gone to the school house to say goodbye to her. Priscilla had been busy laughing with Zack though, and Nick had figured they were involved. Just as he was set to get upset, the words from Audra's letter flashed in his brain, about jumping to conclusions.

"I came by the schoolhouse that afternoon, to tell you about my trip, but you and Zack were having tea." Nick left it at that, not wanting to go into the jealousy and envy he'd felt, at watching them. Priscilla regarded him with narrow eyes, and as she thought about his comment, everything fell into place. She wanted to giggle at how he was controlling his emotions, even as she decided to reassure him.

"Zack had stopped by the school house to take some packages to the dean of my teaching college, and my old roommate. He was leaving the next day for San Francisco, and had offered to deliver the packages, and pick up one from my friend." She explained, tilting her head as she did so. Priscilla saw the relief in Nick's eyes, as she talked. "You should have come in and had some tea; I'd made scones."

"Well now I wish I would of, instead of assuming something else, and rushing off like a damn fool." Nick really wanted to kick himself now, as he thought about his behavior. "Oh, sorry I didn't mean to curse Priscilla. I'm normally not so impolite in public." He added, and was surprised to see her laugh.

"Does that mean that you are impolite in private?" Priscilla inquired, her eyes dancing with amusement. She couldn't help herself, he was just too fun to be with, and make laugh; they shared the same sense of humor she knew well. Nick realized what he'd said, and wondered why this kept on happening to him. Her laughter though made him feel better; as he saw that she wasn't bothered or upset with him. He felt a lightness come over him that he'd not felt in a long time, and Nick joined in the soft chuckling.

"If you recall, I told you once that I have been known to talk without thinking, and I'm very good at sticking my foot in my mouth." Nick informed her, thinking of their meeting in the church yard. "Priscilla, you've seen that first hand." He saw her smile in recognition of what he was saying, and Nick decided that now was the time to tell her his feelings.

"Priscilla, what I brought you out here to talk about is how I feel about you." Nick reached over and took her hands, interlacing their fingers together. "I care about you so much, and when we are together and talking everything seems perfect between us. However, several times I've had the feeling you are keeping me at arm's length. If there is someone else I would like to know – I think we have something special when we are together." He could tell he was holding his breath, as he gazed intently on her face, which was dappled with the silver moonlight coming through the overhead tree.

She swallowed several times, as she heard what he was saying, and saw the concern and almost fear in his hazel eyes. Priscilla was taken aback to see that, and realized how much he really did care about her. The love and longing she'd felt, while dancing with him, came back in a rush, causing her to feel light headed.

"Nick, I think we have something special together too; and you are right about how I've been distant with you." Priscilla gently squeezed their hands, as she looked up at him. Now was the time, she knew, and once she had told him about her sister, Priscilla was going to have to trust in God. "The reason is someone else, but not want you are thinking. You see Nick, it is my sister." She stopped and wondered if he would make the connection. At the back of her mind she had been surprised that no one had said anything to her before now, about the last name.

"Your sister?" Nick was so entranced with how she was looking at him, her blue eyes shining with love, while her cheeks reminded him of the red roses on her dress. His brain had completely turned to soup, while his body was demanding he take her in his arms.

"Hester! You were engaged to her." She now wished that they had waited to have this conversation, until he wasn't so tired. It was clear that Nick wasn't thinking properly, if he could forget being engaged to her sister. However, Priscilla soon saw that he had heard what she'd just told him.

For Nick, the mention of Hester's name caused a hard chill to come over his body, and he stiffened, before he stood up abruptly. He walked to the edge of the wrought iron fence, and gripped one of the spindles tightly, as he took several hard breaths. The mention of _her name_ brought back the ugly memories, and how he had almost torn his family apart, because of a woman.

Nick was also shocked that Priscilla was in fact related to Hester, as he remembered his thought he'd had about the last name, back in September. He had dismissed a possible family connection, because Hester had never said anything about having family. Priscilla, he recalled now, had talked openly about her family – including a married sister who lived in Denver! That thought caused Nick to physically recoil, as he saw how stupid he had been. Why had he taken Hester's word about anything, he seethed to himself, as he watched the moonlight reflect against the river.

"Hester never mentioned a sister; or any other family." Nick forced himself to turn around and look at Priscilla, who looked so small and fragile in his coat. The worry and fear were very apparent in her eyes, and he suddenly wondered about her relations with her sister. Obviously she had known that Hester and he were engaged, which Priscilla would have heard about from her sister. It bothered him that while Hester was willing to deny a family to the outside world, she was clearly keeping in touch with them on a private basis.

"Well that doesn't surprise me!" Priscilla sat up very straight, a look of resigned sadness coming over her face. "She hated Los Angeles, hated living at the parsonage, and hated the life we had there." All the memories of her sister growing up came back to her, hitting her like barbed wire. Looking at Nick, Priscilla saw that he was dealing with his own memories of Hester. His use of the word _hellish_, earlier, could sum up the woman perfectly.

"Please, come sit down Nick, so we can talk. Hester is my half-sister." Priscilla went on to explain about their father, after Nick had almost jerkily walked back to the bench and sat down. "After our parents died, my grandparent's took us in, to raise us. However Nick, they never treated Hester any differently than me. Grandpa Henry and Granny Elspeth had adored my papa, and they tried so hard with Hester."

"Hester told me that her parents had died in a fever epidemic, before she stated that she was living with her guardian in San Francisco. I just assumed that the guardian had raised her." Nick faltered as he told Priscilla what he'd believed. Now it just seemed incredulous that he had been willing to marry a woman he knew nothing about, but at the time he had been too besotted to think straight. What Priscilla said next though almost made him feel better, even though it was clear that he had been duped on so many levels.

"My sister is very good at not quite telling the truth, but not quite lying either." Priscilla was still sitting up very straight, her fists clenched together as she replied. Nick's body language was very clear, by the distance between them on the bench, and the set of his shoulders. She had no doubt that Nick was reliving that time, one that he had probably worked hard to forget. Suddenly she wondered if even the Holy Spirit's power would be enough for this situation.

"She was always discontent with what we had, because it wasn't grand enough for her. Hester though knew how to turn on the charm when it mattered, and she did grow into a beautiful young woman." Priscilla reminisced. "When she was fourteen she discovered boys, and they discovered her. By the time she was sixteen it was men too, all of whom fell at her feet." It had been amazing to watch, Priscilla though, as she recalled that time.

"When Hester turned eighteen she was invited to San Francisco, by an old friend and his wife, of our late father's. By that time we were all ready to see her go, after the trouble and heartache she had caused in Los Angeles." Priscilla looked at Nick, and saw that he was still staring at the river; making her wonder if she was listening.

"What do you mean by trouble?" Nick had been listening, and he found it very easy to see Hester, as Priscilla talked about her. He was still boggled by the fact they were sisters, even half ones. There could not have been two more different women on the planet, in his opinion, and he could not believe that he had ended up involved with both of them. On a certain level he now wondered if God had a bad sense of humor, or just had it out for him, Nicholas Jonathan Barkley.

"Hester could walk into a room and every man would suddenly want her attention, and she ate it up. No matter how much praise and adulation she received though, it never was enough for her. There would always be one man, for whatever reason, who didn't respond to her charms. That became the one she wanted." Priscilla chose her words carefully, because she had no doubt that that was what had happened with Nick and Heath.

"Nick, she played games with men's hearts, just for the fun of it. The last time, before she left Los Angeles, it ended with disastrous results. The son of friends of my grandparents killed himself, because of Hester." Priscilla remembered the funeral, which her grandfather had conducted, even if the young man couldn't be buried in the cemetery.

Listening to Priscilla talk about Hester, Nick felt like he was hearing the story of his relationship with Hester. He could visualize the ballroom so easily, and Hester in her silver dress, her black hair gleaming under the chandeliers. Her dark eyes flashed as she laughed at something, and he remembered the attraction that had almost knocked him over. To find out now that he had just been another man in a long line made him aware that he'd been lucky in the end. Nick saw now that while he'd paid a high price for his lesson, it wasn't as high as it could have been.

"Priscilla, what did Hester say about me? And our engagement?" Nick wanted to know what Hester had told her sister. He was sure that it hadn't been anything near the truth, which worried him. He wanted a permanent relationship with Priscilla, but they had to be on a level playing field about Hester – even if she was Priscilla's half-sister.

"Granny Elspeth and I had two letters about it, what we referred to as the before & after series. Grandpa Henry was dead by then, but at least Hester had come to the funeral." Priscilla replied, seeing the worry in Nick's eyes. She saw that for all of his loud bravado, Nick was really sensitive underneath it all, but only few people would ever see it.

"Nick I'll tell you what she wrote, but I knew even then that it wasn't the truth, as did Granny. We know Hester all too well." Priscilla moved over next to him on the bench, and reached out to take his hand with hers. Nick felt what she was doing, and let out a breath that he had not realized he'd been holding. It came to him that Priscilla would see through Hester's lies, even if he had not been able to. It caused him to hope that maybe she wouldn't hold his behavior with her sister against him.


End file.
